Escape
by Aeria
Summary: Jack breaks Irina out of prison to rescue Sydney and Vaughn from Malaysia. Along the way adventure and romance ensues and the band of four is joind by Mr Sark. Set in early Season 2. R & R
1. Cooperation

Title: Escape  
  
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows  
  
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them  
  
Notes: Yes, another one, I'm a bit stuck with the other two, so I figured do something else. This started with a song, I won't name it, but then I figured I should make it into a proper fic, so now I want reviews if you want more.  
  
Author: If you hadn't guessed, it's me, Aeria, Aeryn, Doona, depending where you know me from. Um, if you haven't read my other two, go read them: Wish List and True Lies. I live off reviews and promise more soon if I get them. I realise this is simular to True Lies, but it won't be really, cause it is different. Oh and no prizes for guessing which song first got me started cause it is obvious.  
  
Chapter One  
  
I think I'm getting tired. I haven't slept properly in four days now, not since Jack came and told me we're still married, I'm not sure why it is so unsettling to me. But it is, I get into bed and lie still for as long as I can, my eyes shut tight so that anyone watching believes I am asleep, but I'm not. I am thinking, and I have come to the conclusion that I am slowly becoming weary. Not only due to my lack of sleep but also of this. Everything. My life. If I was pushed now, I think I would fall.  
  
It's slowly getting more and more cloudy, it's like going blind, everything is blurring and it's as if it's the middle of the night sometimes, everything is black, everything the same to my eyes but in reality perhaps opposites.  
  
I used to think that by this time in my life I would be happily married, but no one ever came to marry me. I married, that's true, but out of what I believed was a duty to my country, and it wasn't love, not for me, not when I first seduced him into the marital contract. Now, instead of lying blissfully asleep in my own house, I lie, slumber eluding me, in a cell, where no one can find me unless they are told to.  
  
This place is colourless, hard, cold and biting. And not only in the literal sense, this place symbolises everything I am now, everything I deserve.  
  
There are no signs of anything in my future, there is no sign as to what is in store, what might possibly come my way. There is no change here, this place is timeless and I can't hear anything coming worth waiting for, no action, or emotion, or happiness. Nothing. It's as though I am suddenly deaf, compared to what I used to be, I am suddenly unable to hear anything coming, though perhaps that is because there is nothing. I want something to come, but there isn't ever going to be something coming for me. I don't deserve it.  
  
Everyone around me, outside these walls, has something to look forward to, something worth going towards, an ulterior motive for life. They've been found. But I'm lost, and there are no searches going on, because no one wants me to be found. I can understand that.  
  
I want to belong, I always wanted to belong, that was the original point of joining the KGB, because it meant people could say; she is a true Russian. I wish I had a home, but all I have in this cell.  
  
I shiver a little, it's freezing in here. I think; I haven't felt heat in a long while, not really heat, not sun, not with enough time to enjoy it. I hate this place, this person I am while at the same time it is exciting.  
  
I don't know what I consider myself; good or bad. I appear to be good to Sydney, but under that I know there is worse. Everyone looks at each other assuming that what they see is what they get, people trained to look at people and see the real them, they look under that top, superficial layer and see beneath that. They would see the hate, the anger the evil that lies beneath. But, then, something, something else, under all of that, I feel that there is something right under that. Don't know what.  
  
And then I have to ask, what is the difference between good and bad? It is more a majority vote as to what is wrong and right. If the entire world were to suddenly believe that killing everyone with red hair was right, they would think it was right, they would define it as being right, but then, when they realised it wasn't it would suddenly be wrong. Am I like that? Could I be one or the other depending on what everyone else thinks? Or is it a deeper knowledge that is timeless? Like my cell?  
  
I need someone to lead me, show me, take my hand and explain all of this, take me somewhere I haven't been before, because everywhere I have been has been wrong. I need to escape, to start over. But that is impossible, I know that.  
  
It makes no difference who, I don't care, but I need to be taken somewhere else. Need help, I don't care who takes me there, I just need something else. It will be a man without a face. But, hopefully, it will be better than all the places before. At the moment all I need is a reason to remain, I'm searching for a motive to stay, Sydney perhaps, but still I can't be sure. I can't find the face I want to find because I know that he will be faceless.  
  
It's too difficult because, no one, not a soul, really knows me for who I am to the core. Probably. because I don't know me to the core. I wonder if anyone would ever understand me. Know me.  
  
Nothing has gone to plan, not since I joined the KGB, it's my fault that it all went wrong, but still, it's unfair that I find myself being accused of crimes I committed, accused of being evil, when no one can really tell me what evil is. I know I'm wrong, but evil? Right now everything around me is blurred together, reds and blues joining to form purples, black and white: a million different greys, blue and yellow: green. And then it is all poured into a bucket and I'm faced with colours, each more complex than the one before. Which is me?  
  
Despite the fact that I mock everyone, that I seem so happy with myself; no one wants to be like this. I know from experience that being alone is the only way to succeed in the world of crime, and that is why no one ever wins. Because no one wants to be alone and when you get powerful enough you get everything you want. It's a paradox. No one gets that with me though; everyone looks at me and thinks I don't want anything human.  
  
The colours mix together more, the 2D surface gaining a third dimension and falling into the impossible. Is this what life is about? Trying to decipher the difference? Reason left me long ago, probably right after I ran my car off the pier. That was the beginning of my downward spiral that, to anyone else, looks like my rise to fame.  
  
I don't get it. Where do I stand?  
  
I let my eyes slit open and look up to the clock outside, ten past six. I crank my neck quickly and stand up, beginning to pace the room, looking up to the security cameras to see them following me. There is a lack of things to do in here, so I sit down and begin to rake my fingers through my hair, recalling Jack's last visit. He hadn't asked me to sign the papers for the annulment. I wonder why. Perhaps to keep his pride. Or was it something else. I roll my shoulders, quickly, a pain in my lower neck from a lack of exercise insisting I do something.  
  
I hear the door swing open, smashing against the wall as someone enters, hurried footsteps, Jack's I decide, come down the hall and he rounds the corner, coming face to face with me as I stand and look at him. I don't see the normal revolt, hatred and anger that always crosses his face when he first gets here. The expected hardening of defences doesn't even occur, only a flicker of fear is observable.  
  
He is breathing hard and fast as he sits down, staring at me, pleading with me, the smug smile I'd put in place falling quickly as I realise that something terrible has happened, something horrible enough to scare jack Bristow into coming to me.  
  
He swallows before speaking, "Cuvee has Sydney and Agent Vaughn." I watch him, careful not to let any of my emotions surface, my heart beat quickening, my mouth going dry as his words slowly sink in. "Where?" I had to ask, but he shook his head.  
  
"I asked Devlin to let you out again, to help," he's watching me carefully; trying to see if this is a set up, organised by myself. "He said no. You are the only one that can rescue her. I acknowledge that. Devlin won't. He wants to just leave it alone until we can work out where she is. All we have is a transmission stating she was being taken to Abuta, but that isn't the name of any city on the planet. I've checked myself."  
  
He's almost rambling; it's scary to see him like this. Abuta, that rings a bell. I open my mouth to tell him but a quick shake of his head tells me to keep quiet. I do as he asks and shut my mouth, letting my eyes slide to the cameras. He looks at my, his eyes glaring, as though he is mad at himself before he starts to speak quickly, whispering letters quickly, listening for something from down the hall. I have to wonder whether this is a trap, but instead of accusing, I choose to trust him. I carefully listen, "L, P, J, R, L, O, J, U, R, C, S, D, N, H, B, R, X, R, X, U, P, L, E, E, D, B, C, H, S, H, D, E, B." Useless, no normal pattern that I can see, not simply scrambled either. He locks eyes with me, trying to see whether I understand, my eyes flicker at him, trying to ask him for more, but he turns and runs out of my view.  
  
Guard run in from the opposite direction and I shout at them in Russian, just swearing, nothing worth them looking over. Jack obviously expects me to work out exactly what he said without a pencil or paper and it must be hard enough to keep the CIA fooled long enough. Carefully I turn and sit down in the middle of my cell, I already know that Cuvee's message stating Abuta is a scrambled form of Tubau, a city in Malaysia, obviously no one had worked this out at the CIA as no one other than a few of his partners, including me know he has a base there. I cross my legs and sit down to start fiddling with the message in my head, automatically looking for the patterns that I usually would look for, simple shifting and scrambling was unlikely and so she moved onto the harder forms.  
  
At midday, I hear footsteps, Jack's again, tentative and soft as he walks down towards my cell. He arrives and looks at me, his eyes and face questioning me silently. I swallow, but don't react. He breathes deeply, obviously torn between two things, slowly, he pulls a gun out from beneath his jacket, and holds it, half concealed. I watch him as he motions for me to move to the side.  
  
I do so quickly and nod as I see him raise the gun to face the glass barrier. He lets off eight shots in quick succession, each shattering the glass in a different place, the final one, forcing the see through wall to fall to the ground, the barrier disappearing completely. Staring at him, having never thought he would actually do it, I move quickly as he yells, his cover now blown, "Move, now!"  
  
I run out, instinctively grabbing his hand so that we can't be divided, he drops the weapon as we run and hands me a tranquiliser gun. I smile a little, happy to be back in the game and out of my timeless prison. Rounding another corner we run head first into purposely smoked up hallways and hear voices shouting for us to keep still and drop the guns. Though he haze; I count seven guards, all armed. I grab at Jack's hand harder, the smoke stopping me from seeing properly and my eyes watering madly. Raising the gun I begin to shoot at the opposition, noting that Jack has done the same, his hand not rejecting mine, seeing it as a necessity.  
  
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	2. Room Service

Title: Escape  
  
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows  
  
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them  
  
Notes: Enjoy people and Read and review, I hope you al had a great Christmas! I did! Yes, another one, I'm a bit stuck with the other two, so I figured do something else. This started with a song, I won't name it, but then I figured I should make it into a proper fic, so now I want reviews if you want more.  
  
Author: If you hadn't guessed, it's me, Aeria, Aeryn, Doona, depending where you know me from. Um, if you haven't read my other two, go read them: Wish List and True Lies. I live off reviews and promise more soon if I get them. I realise this is simular to True Lies, but it won't be really, cause it is different. Oh and no prizes for guessing which song first got me started cause it is obvious.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Taking all of them out was a cinch; the pair of us know each other too well. We continue to run down the halls and out into the open, the sun burning my eyes only for an instant, the midday sun beaming down. Quickly, I feel Jack's hand drop from mine and follow him silently around a corner and down the street. We walk briskly, both with heads down as a few cars speed past us, possibly on their way to the cell, the word of the break out having spread.  
  
I have to chuckle at the entire set up, I had never imagined that Jack would be the one to help me break out, but he was and now I am free. He turns in front of me, heading around the back of a house. He opens the gates and picks the lock on the back door in seconds. A man with quick hands, the thought whirls at me, too quick for me to stop it, I grin.  
  
He walks in and I brush past him, trying not to touch him. "Where is this?" I ask, trying to get some piece of information out of him.  
  
He locks the door and checks that all the curtains are drawn. "The house is just any house but I made sure that the family wasn't going to be here." I look at him questioningly. "They're in Thailand." He walks into the kitchen and pulls a suitcase out from under the bench. Inside it, double lining, full of wires to fool any device used to check for illegal objects, such as the guns, CIA edition gadgets or explosives with in, so that they aren't found. He pauses for a while, waiting for me to follow him in before stating with defiance. "As soon as we're back, I want you to go back to that cell." It is wishful thinking but I am not sure of what I will do when we get back.  
  
I change the subject. "The code, it was difficult."  
  
He nods at me, wonder rising on his features, "I'm surprised you understood it."  
  
I have to grin, he hadn't really thought that I would get it cracked. "Two number assignment changes, backwards and one rotation to the right. It wasn't that hard," I lie with ease, leaning against the table, acutely aware of how much I let slip. "'I'm going to break you out, be ready at midday to run.' Very poetic." I grin, seductively, enjoying playing with his mind, my composure as good as if he were just another victim, but inside, I know it's different.  
  
"It did the job," he states simply, continuing to check the case over, looking at it from all angles, double checking the wiring, fiddling at it with his fingers.  
  
"I don't exactly understand why you broke me out," I ask, teasing him with my accent. I look at him questioningly.  
  
"Because, Cuvee has Sydney and Vaughn," I raise an eyebrow looking for more details. "They were captured while on a simple reconnaissance mission in Russia and I am inclined to suspect that Sark, with or without your blessing, is trying to play in all parks, CIA, SD-6, Cuvee, everyone. Devlin won't let me touch it for political reasons and due to the fact that they still have no idea where she is being held." Jack lets his voice trail off as he waits, hopeful that I know where we should be headed.  
  
The sudden realisation of how serious this is hits me in the stomach and my forehead creases. I look at him, trying to work out why he is so trusting so suddenly. "Tubau, in Malaysia. Cuvee has a factory there where he would interrogate people he captured." I give in easily, knowing that I have very little chance of rescuing Sydney by myself. "Sark isn't involved," I add as an after thought.  
  
Jack shakes his head and asks me with an edge of apprehension to his voice. "How can you be so sure? Unless he truly is still working for you, in which case, you've been lying to us since you got here." I shake my head and look down, wondering just how to deal with this.  
  
"Trust me," the words slip out of my mouth and I watch as they slip, like a sharp blade straight through Jack's heart. "Look," I start again, my voice now normal, my incentive to rescue Sydney now my top priority; I know what Cuvee can do. "I can tell you right now that Sark isn't a threat."  
  
Jack eyes me carefully, his full attention on me as he tries to see what I am thinking. He doesn't succeed. "I have no choice but to listen to you." He turns back and looks at his watch. "There's a flight to Malaysia in an hour, we leave in five minutes. Go and get changed."  
  
The fact that he'll let me out of his sight is good, but I can't help but wonder how much of this decision is simply because he wants to trust me and how much is because he can't stand seeing me strip. I grin a little, in spite of myself.  
  
"I need to make a call." I tell him, my voice defiant and like a five year old on Christmas Eve wanting to stay up late.  
  
He laughs, mocking me with his humour. I shake my head a little. "You're not making a call. And anyway, who would you call?" I shrug. "Right, you won't even tell me who it is you are going to call."  
  
I look at him, holding my head high; "If you don't giving me a phone, I will use the house one. If you won't let me do that, I simply won't tell you where this factory is." I watch him carefully noting the quick slip of the mask and the fear for his daughter that is revealed. For a second I feel sorry for him, I am notorious for my use of blackmail but against Jack, I haven't done it once.  
  
He pulls a phone from a pocket. "Only forty seconds, worst case, CIA will only trace it down to a forty kilometre radius and we'll be fine." I nod and take it from his outstretched hand, the limb recoiling as soon as I have a hold of the gadget.  
  
Turning I go to leave, I hear him open his mouth doubtlessly about to protest about me making the call in another room, but then he shuts it and realises that I am in total control, it is up to me what, when and where we do things.  
  
Two minutes later I emerge to find Jack in jeans and a black shirt, I've made my call and I am, by now, wearing a crisp blue summer dress. He stares at me for a moment before leading my out to a car parked out the front of next door. He gets in to drive and I hoist myself up into the passenger side seat of the green four wheel drive.  
  
Glancing again at his watch, Jack steps on the accelerator and we speed off at a speed I would have only expected from a few people, among them, Sark and Cuvee. The streets are busy with the lunch break, cars are bumper to bumper in some places, but Jack can seemingly dodge all of them, riding up onto the pavement and whizzing down back roads until we arrive at the airport.  
  
Once there he doesn't park, just stopping, much to the disgust of people behind us. Looking at me we run through the airport, ducking and weaving through the people, his hand once again wrapped around mine. Running harder and still with the case, he looks at his watch, whispering as we move he says, "The plane leaves in five minutes, we have to time this right." I'm not sure what he means, but I continue to run, keep the pace and moving alongside him as we race the clock.  
  
It would be fun if it weren't to save our daughter. Eventually he turns left abruptly and through three sets of doors, one marked with big letters, 'Personal Only', security yelling from behind us as we run out onto the tarmac. He lets go of my hand and looks around. Glancing up to where he's looking, I see a plane parked in Gate 47. He dumps the case on the ground, knowing that someone will find it and deliver it to Malaysia. I have no idea what he plans on doing but when I see him heading for the huge set of wheels, I suddenly realise. Seeing the turbines turning rapidly in preparation for the flight, I realise how little time we have.  
  
The plane's base is a good four meters above the ground and immediately I begin to climb up the wheel. He stops above me, reaching out and picking at the lock that will, I hope, open up into the interior. It's exciting but as I watch him working quickly and silently, his mind concentrating solely on the job at hand I come to the realisation that if we don't move soon the wheels might begin to turn.  
  
Just as I am about to start to tell him of the slight problem, the hatch pops open and he scrambles inside, at this point I feel the wheels turning, faster than I expect, with me still positioned on them. Glancing up in horror I throw both arms at him, hoping to god he catches me because if he doesn't I'm going to end up on the ground. The thrust I put behind my up- thrown arms carries me up and then I start to fall, I would scream in frustration if I could and it is now that I feel strong hands grabbing at me with a force that will leave bruises.  
  
Scrambling up his arm, he hoists me in and drops me unceremoniously on the ground, the fast paced rescue taking much of his energy. Looking around, I find myself in a room, not large enough to be of any use and cluttered with spanners and tools all tied down for the trip. Jack grabs me again and pulls me up, heading towards a wall, he pulls a panel off and I find myself facing the luggage compartment.  
  
We touch down at the Belaga airport and carefully wait until Jack is sure there is no one above, he quickly pulls the panel off and we climb out into the normal area where everyone is now mulling in front of us, eager to get off the plane.  
  
I have to look at him, stunned that he managed to pull this whole thing off so well, I hadn't imagined we would get away with it, but it appears we have. Customs is simple; a gang of young boys getting all the attention, our new cloths and redone hair making us appear just as any other tourist. We get out and a man rushes through the crowd yelling out Jack's alias. Our case has arrived, it caught a plane that stopped over here just moments after ours landed and they have it in customs.  
  
Or course we are careful, fearing it is a trap, but it isn't, we get our case and go outside. We rent a car under a false name, a simple four wheel drive, just in case we end up having to go cross country.  
  
Jack lets me drive when I reason with him that I know the area better. He apparently has never had to commandeer any part of Malaysia. We drive in silence until we hit the city of Tubau, the city where, right now my daughter and her handler are being held captive. Knowing Cuvee, I'm sure he won't lay a finger on them until Monday as he takes his weekends too seriously. I explain this to Jack, he isn't sure but concedes as he realises I can't be argued with.  
  
I drive us to a three star hotel on the outskirts and park, Jack looks at me and I can feel his questions, but I ignore him.  
  
I check us in, speaking English to the receptionist and getting a room with two beds on the pretence that we are siblings. I hope that this is what he wants. We make our way up to the room, a second floor, cheep little area with beds for less than everywhere else.  
  
Settling in I sense Jack's unease, but I don't comment, instead, opening the suitcase and looking through the contents. I load all of the guns and check that they are clean and in good repair, hardly necessary, but something to do. The first aid kit is full and the explosives all high tech and top of the range. At least they are the best that can be purchased by anyone legally.  
  
I look at my watch; we landed here just after four in the afternoon and it is just ticking over nine past six. I stand, moving, discreetly to the door, keeping an eye on Jack as he looks out the window at the city, he hasn't noticed me.  
  
My watch ticks dead on ten minutes past six and I look up as a nock at the door rings out in the room. Looking at Jack I find he already has a gun in hand. Shaking my head as I peer through the peep hole, he puts in down and shuts the suitcase, locking it and quickly moving it to the bathroom. He returns and I unlock the door, a voice greets me, "Room Service," and I grin at the irony.  
  
I stand back and the young man walks in with a silver tray in his hand. Quickly I shut the door locking it and turn back. Jack is looking at both me and the apparent room service guy. His mind ticking over as he realises that you don't lock a room service guy in your room, that the hotel doesn't have room service and that the room service man looks very much like... "Sark," he whispers, somewhat shocked that I've betrayed him.  
  
Sark looks up from beneath his new brown hair and grins at me, I grin back and would hug him were it not for the fact that Jack is looking towards the bathroom with the corner of his eyes. He must be wondering how he could have been so stupid to trust me.  
  
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	3. In The Ring

Title: Escape  
  
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows  
  
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them  
  
Notes: Yes, another one, I'm a bit stuck with the other two, so I figured do something else. This started with a song, I won't name it, but then I figured I should make it into a proper fic, so now I want reviews if you want more.  
  
Author: If you hadn't guessed, it's me, Aeria, Aeryn, Doona, depending where you know me from. Um, if you haven't read my other two, go read them: Wish List and True Lies. I live off reviews and promise more soon if I get them. I realise this is simular to True Lies, but it won't be really, cause it is different. Oh and no prizes for guessing which song first got me started cause it is obvious.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Sark is looking mighty pleased, he always had a streak of jealousy when it came to Jack. I'd forced him to learn about him, about his triumphs and used his one downfall - me - to teach him where not to go in a life of crime. Every time he failed a mission or did something I thought not to be up to standard, I would tell him that Jack wouldn't have done that. Sark had watched videos of him and read CIA report detailing his work. And, now, they finally meet properly.  
  
I want to laugh, but I think that a lapse in my concentration would result in Jack trying to kick my ase. He's watching me carefully, one eye on me and one on Sark who has positioned himself just off to Jack's right. I, myself, am blocking the door. He swallows and I want to speak, to tell him, but again, we're locked in stale mate. One thought entering my mind that isn't in regards to keeping Jack at bay and he will attack. But then, if I don't try, we'll still be standing here in an hour's time.  
  
I stare at him, letting my eyes grow wide and forgetting Sark is even here. I take a deep breath and begin to speak. "It's not what you think." Completely serious, and no longer wanting to tease, to trick. Just to tell. I would have continued straight away but he was quicker than what I had expected. His foot connecting with the back of my shin and almost breaking the bone.  
  
I hiss in pain, Sark stepping forward to help me but a shake of my head keeps him away. One on one is fair, if he wins, then Sark can have him. If I win, then, I win. He's watching me, knees bent, back arched, fists up with the thumbs on the outside, perfect posture. I'm sprawled on the ground, one leg off to the sign, the calf muscle whining at me in pain.  
  
I spring up, my hands on the floor and my back arched. I let him see me and try again, "Jack, don't," but the minute my mouth opened he takes another shot, his right foot going around and into my left shoulder. Sark, luckily holds my ground, as one of my arms buckles. I have no choice but to give up talking, I have to make this quick and the pain temporary, Sydney's rescue still in my mind.  
  
Leaping up and backwards, I appear to be pinned with my back to the door; he takes his chance and takes a punch at my chin. Timing myself perfectly, I dodge, throw a kick at his face and wince as I hear his jaw crack. Not broken, just bent out of shape. I can feel the anger seething off him in a waterfall, the rage uncontrolled and take another kick, quickly. I get both his legs, behind the knees and he falls to the ground.  
  
His rage works against me and for me at the same time, his foot coming around and almost kicking my feet out from under me. I jump them carefully and do one of my more extravagant flips, landing a little further forward and out to the side. Unluckily, by this time, he's on his feat and in a second's glance I see Sark sitting on the bed, watching us carefully. What an arrogant prick. Jack takes his chance, seeing me look away and begins throwing punch after punch at me, holding nothing back. I block the majority getting hit only once in the stomach. I hurl my own fists at him, one after the other, from below, above and the sides, but he blocks each, his laboured breathing, the only sign that anything is affecting him.  
  
Moving quickly I twist around to the back and up the pace, I throw a knee up into his spine, hopeful of doing no permanent harm to his back, but not sure I haven't. He crumples to the floor and I can't help but smile in his defeat. He just looks up at me with hate in his eyes; cold, dark hate and I again wince in pain.  
  
Sark's hand lands gently on my elbow, I turn and grin at him, not ready for him to see my affected by a mere man. "I came as soon as you called." His voice is music to my ears. He is my best man, never questions what I ask of him, unless he believes my motives to be wrong. He never questions my loyalty and, in return, I never question his.  
  
"Good," I tell him, letting my thick accent back into my words, knowing that he expects me only to use American English around Americans. "Sydney's been captured." Jack groans and I turn my attention back to him. Bending over him, I touch his back tenderly, feeling the skin bruised and bloated and search for a break, hoping that there isn't one. To him: "Can you move your legs?"  
  
"You're a lying bitch. You've betrayed your only daughter." I shake my head, trying to ignore his words, but failing as I feel a wrench in my stomach. Despite his words, I can see him moving his legs a little and look to Sark.  
  
"Get him up on the bed." Sark smiles at me and I hasten to add, "Gently."  
  
Sark's brows raise in question and I nod, telling him that I will explain soon. He lifts Jack, my husband too sore to reject his help: I take this as a bad sign and cross to the other wall so that I can keep my distance.  
  
Once he's sitting up, a hand holding all of his weight, Sark returns to my side and leans back against the wall, waiting. I bite my lip, trusting both men completely, but not sure where to start. Jack glares at me from beneath a battered forehead, a gash, bleeding slightly situated just above his eye.  
  
Swallowing, I begin, "Jack. Jack, I haven't betrayed you or Sydney." He isn't listening, I try to inject more into my words, accent and emotion mingling in my throat while Sark watches the invisible wires between us. "Jack, Sark has been at SD-6 because I told him to go and work there."  
  
Jack laughs, his voice a rasp and sarcastic. "No shit!"  
  
I almost flinch back visibly, but stop myself, just in time. "I placed him there for two reasons." He still isn't listening. "Firstly, because I want to take them down, I like Sd-6 just as much as you. And secondly, because I want someone there who can keep an eye on Sydney." He just looks down, shaking his head, everything I am saying going through one ear and out the other. I'm not sure what reactions I will get, but I have to risk it, this conversation cannot go on indefinitely. "Because she's my daughter and...and as her mother, I should do that."  
  
Sark is watching Jack harder than he should be, picking up on something I can't see, I look to him to see what it is, but he refuses to tell me. I don't know why, he has always told me everything. Still, this isn't the time. I wish I could cross the room and just drum every word into him.  
  
"Jack!" He looks, up, the hatred still there, hurt around the edges and I see Sark's eyes perk up with a new found knowledge. "If you don't trust me, I will do it by myself. If you decide that you do, I will go, with you and with Sark and we will rescue our daughter. I'm going to bed now, but when I get up, you will either go with us or you will sit here and contemplate what we are doing to save our daughter."  
  
He still hasn't responded, just looking around the room, refusing to make eye contact. Sark is watching me now, taking in what I shouldn't show anyone, his brows are raised in question again, but I ignore him, trying one more time. "Jack, please, I could kill you now, so why haven't I." Still nothing. "Jack, when we get back to LA," Sark stares at me, wondering, no doubt, why I am going to go back to LA. "When we get back, with Sydney, I'll go back into the cell."  
  
Sark shakes his head and pushes off the wall, his face still showing nothing of his own thoughts and only what he is seeing in us. I nod, "Good night Jack," I walk away, heading after Sark and out the door, closing it quietly behind me.  
  
Sark just looks at me incredulously, his questions flowing openly through his eyes, but showing no sign that he plans on leaving me. "What if he leaves?" he asks of Jack.  
  
I shrug, "He won't. Sydney means too much to him," I can see him thinking that he knows now how much Sydney means to me. "I'm just not sure whether he will be bale to trust me by tomorrow."  
  
He nods, leaving all his other unanswered questions and unlocking his door, letting me in before him. Once inside, we're safe and I smile at him. "I've missed you," I tell him quietly.  
  
He smiles his normal mischievous and arrogant grin and opens his arms. I walk slowly into them, hugging him tight before letting go. He truly in like a son I never had. He bounces down on the bed and pats the spot beside him, his entire mood and personality changing now that he's alone with someone he trusts.  
  
"So," he begins, "What's the deal with him?" I smile somewhat sadly. Shaking my head I look down. Sark is too quick for his own good, he's only just out of high school, not old enough to know the world, but he has his own high intelligence but not the experience of an older agent. But he has seen something, possibly something even I don't see and he wants to know what I understand.  
  
"He's my husband," I start.  
  
"Ex," he corrects.  
  
"No," I grin at the irony of explaining this to him. "It's still legitimate. Jack told me a couple of weeks ago. He's a difficult man, complex, hasn't changed much."  
  
Sark shakes his head, laughing a little, his voice flowing out slow and British. "I know everything there is to know about him. I want to know what the deal is between you. At this very moment."  
  
He's always too playful for his own good, not caring what he puts his foot in and pulling it out slowly enough to kill anyone who saw him do it. "I just beat the crap out of the man, he hates me, but tomorrow, he'll force himself to trust me. From there, I go back to my cell and start again."  
  
I smile at him. "He could have beaten you." I raise an eyebrow; Sark knows that if anyone else had said that to me they'd be dead by now. "It was the rage, the anger, it blurred him a bit. Put you in a boxing ring, it'd be a good fight."  
  
I nod, "I know." I look out the window; it's still light, only just nearing seven. Still, it will be an early start tomorrow. I look at my right hand man and flicker my eyes, telling him to go to bed. He gets off the bed and I smile.  
  
"I'll sleep on the ground," he wanders into the bathroom and I call after him, my voice thick with my accent and an edge of humour.  
  
"Of course you will, I'm in charge." I flick the covers back and lie down. The air is hot and heavy. Kicking my shoes off, I stare at the ceiling until he returns, shutting the curtains and darkening the room. He whispers a good night across the room and lies down on his back on the carpeted floor, stripping his shirt off in the motion. I smile and curl up, defensively, feeling for the gun that always sleeps under my pillow. I find it there and silently thank Sark for thinking of it.  
  
Closing my eyes I think of trivial things until sleep takes me over.  
  
Any good? Review!! Please!! 


	4. Swim

Title: Escape  
  
Disclaimer: Ahem, I hereby declare that under act 4747 paragraph 47, line 47, word 47, I don't give a crap. Please don't sue me, I'm 15 and without money.  
  
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows  
  
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them  
  
Author: Aeria/Aeryn/Doona, like duh!  
  
Author Notes: Ahem, again, this is 8000 words I've done tonight and I started at 8pm, which is a lot for anyone. Anyways, It's very hard to update all four in one day, but lots of reviews and I will. Please, if you like all four, review all of them. If you only like this one, go and read the other three. Please review, of I shan't write.  
  
Chapter Four  
  
I awake early, outside it's still dark, little swirls of blue dancing to the east above the tree line and a mist of white hanging around the ground, swirling around the few early morning cars. Sitting up, I can hear the shower and I sigh, eager to wash. The covers are tangled around my legs and body, intertwining and grabbing at me, the humid air not hot enough to make me throw them off in the night. I get out of bed and wander around, looking out the window at the world, a world that I rarely see.  
  
Walking over to the bathroom I knock and stick my head in, a wall of heat hitting me as steam slaps at my face. I feel the sweat pricking at my body and hurry myself up. "Sark, Sark, how long?"  
  
It was a common thing, we usually share a room and he most often wakes moments before me and steals the shower. It is annoying, but crucial if we are to keep our cover. His voice comes back, muffled by the water: "If you want it, I'll get out now."  
  
I can't be bothered forcing him out of a shower and I shake my head as I tell him, "No, take your time, I'm going for a walk, don't leave the room and don't do anything to Jack." I add the last bit just to be sure. He wouldn't go against anything I tell him, but if he thinks that he can twist my words to suit him, he will.  
  
There's no reply, but I figure he heard and move back into the room, I strip down and change into a pair of denim shorts and a thin blue top that Sark brought with him. Leaving my feet bear, I head towards the door, opening it wide and wandering out into the corridor. I run down the stairs, enjoying the freedom of being alone. I'm not used to it and find it surprisingly nice.  
  
I walk out the front of the hotel, seeing that there is no one about and begin to make my way along the gravel road out front. I walk, happily, observing the few houses and the early wildlife of possums and birds for a few minutes before getting bored. Seeing that nothing is there, I turn and wander back, the sharper rocks digging into my feet, but I feel them toughening even as I move along. Returning to the front of the building, I still feel like I want to stay alone for a few more moments.  
  
Making my way around to the back of the hotel, I find a recreation room, the doors are locked and for a moment, I think about picking the lock and going inside. Peering through the window, I can see an old, stained pool table, a table tennis set, a heap of miss matched chairs and a couple of tennis balls, sitting on the floor. Sighing heavily, I turn away and walk around to the back of the building.  
  
There I find a sparkling pool, cleaner than I would have expected and with a deep, inviting look to it. Looking around, I relish the feeling that I am about to do something naughty. Not dangerous, but fun. Something I haven't done in decades. Walking around it, I let my foot drag through the cool water, letting my leg in up to my mid calf. The water is cold and refreshing and again I look around, searching for any movement and checking the time by the horizon's lightness. It can't be too late, the first rays of orange just darting above the horizon. Finding no chairs around the pool and no step leading in, I'm tempted to just jump now, not care about what happens, but thinking about the rest of the day, I realise it would probably be more intelligent to have a towel.  
  
Knowing that I have none, I roll my shoulders before pulling the blue shirt over my head. Underneath I'm wearing a black bra, nothing too good as I don't expect anyone to see it, but nice enough to keep me happy. Wriggling my toes on the concrete that surrounds the pool, I pull my arms up above my head and spring off into the water.  
  
She enters perfectly, when she was my wife, pretending to be my wife, she'd been a great swimmer and obviously she still is. Her body's lithe in the water, moving under the sparkling surface, her curves obscured by the gentle waves, her hair flying out behind her, reaching down to the small of her bare back. She begins to dolphin under the water, her body moving like a wave, up and down, the motion moving back and every joint moving to propel her to the other end. She surfaces and takes a deep breath, again looking around for people.  
  
Irina doesn't look up to my room, next-door to hers. My lights are out and I'm sitting by the window, silently trying to decide what to do. I watch as she dives under again, her body swimming in circles, flipping and playing invisible games with the water. Many chances she has had to kill me, many to kill Sydney, many to escape, to return to her thrown of power, but she hasn't yet. There are many possible reasons why she has chosen to stay; because she is sadistic and wants to see the pain she's caused, because she is trying, again, to gather Intel, because she has some other major plan. Or because she really does want to change. I doubt the last one, but it is an option, just with very bad odds. Odds that I am not prepared to bet on.  
  
But do I have a choice? Could I just up and leave now? Go back to LA and say, I made a mistake? Leave Sydney to die? Of course not, I have no real choice, I have to go with her and Sark to rescue the one person left for me.  
  
I can see her below, circling still, her body's perfect under the water, every piece of it under a microscope and her elegance and grace intensified.  
  
I turn away and look around my room, my eyes readjusting and looking over the made bed, packed case and overly clean room. Seeing nothing left to do, I turn back to the window, she's on her back. Floating on the water, nothing seems to be bothering her, hers eyes are closed, I think, and I have to wonder how anything that looks so peaceful and serene would truly be evil, but then I remind myself of what she did and I stop all other thoughts of her being a good guy from entering my head.  
  
I will work with her to rescue Sydney and then return her to Los Angeles or die trying to doing so. I continue to watch, just in the shadows of my window, occasionally looking to the horizon where more and more reds and oranges are showing, playing in the clouds with wispy streamers of colours or little mixed specks.  
  
I can feel someone's' eyes on me, they are holding their distance, just watching. I'd guess someone just wants to watch me so that they can say that they saw some weird woman playing in a pool in her underwear in the early hours of the morning, but I don't think that my surveyor is just there for the story. I think it could be Sark, or maybe Jack, I really don't care, I just continue to laze about, the water feeling cool and refreshing, the time to myself good to think the upcoming events out to myself.  
  
I'm serious about going back to LA with Jack, I don't know why, it isn't just an empty promise that I will break as soon as I have the chance; I do mean it. When the time comes, I'll go back, at gun point, and sit back down in my cell. They can add whatever felonies they want to my list, but that's what's fair and I owe it to Jack, this has got to be tearing him apart. Especially with Sark in the picture. Still, what do I care?  
  
Flexing my shoulders, I see the rising sun peeking above the tress and pull myself out of the water, grabbing the shirt I shake myself dry and start to make my way back to the front of the hotel. Walking in, there is a small woman cleaning the floors with a mop, I smile at her and she just stares at me as I make my way up to my room, her little voice yelling at me to put some clothes on or leave echoing up the stairs. I laugh to myself, a last indulgence before I have to face the day during which I will have to face God knows what.  
  
I walk down the corridor that leads to my room, Sark has the door open and is leaning in the door frame, he looks at my wet and much revealed body and says, his voice teasing, "I don't want to know." Grinning I let my eyes flicker to the other door and see it is partially open.  
  
Looking to Sark I ask as I walk in, "Is he still there?" He shrugs and follows me in, closing the door behind him. "What's the plan?" I ask him.  
  
"I'm not sure," he looks at me before picking out a black loose top and throwing it over. "Intel seems to think that your daughter is being held at the factory, we've got the first confirmation, and I'm waiting on the second. She's being held in the usual office area and the interrogation will have to be later than one."  
  
I pull the shirt over my head and pull it down over my still slightly damp body, look at myself in the grimy mirror and leaving the shorts on. "Why later than one?"  
  
Sark looks at me and throws a gun he's just pulled from a case. "Cuvee has a meeting with associates in the glass business in the factory building set for between ten and one. He's on the other side of town right now, asleep and I can't see him doing anything in the morning." He throws me another gun and grabs two for himself, slipping them into a belt around his waist and letting his own black shirt fall over them.  
  
Winking, he pulls something else out of the case. Putting on his own black sun glasses he throws a pair of large black ones for myself, indicating with a finger to his own, he comments, "Perfect camera link. We've got a lovely little Russian satellite working for us." He grins again. "There's an extra in the case..." I nod, showing that I expect him to give them to Jack if he's still here.  
  
"Here you go," he throws my a set of dangling black earrings and a matching black necklace with links of black dropping down to small round black spheres, which hang just above the line of my shirt. I duck as he throws a pair of high heels complete with black straps that will get to half way up my calf.  
  
Looking at him, I have to ask, "Why do I need all of this?"  
  
He just grins back, "To get in, you'll have to look good. The shoes have two charges of C4 in them which activate when you break the strap at the top." He finishes but I point to the jewellery. "Oh, those I saw on my last trip to Milan and instantly thought of you. Pure jet and black pearls."  
  
I smile. "While I am sure you used my money, thank you anyway. All done," he nods. "Right lets go see Jack."  
  
Read and review and go read my other work, OR ELSE!!!! Kidding! 


	5. Guns, Heels, Pearls and a Mercedes!

Title: Escape  
  
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows  
  
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them  
  
Notes: Yes, another one, I'm a bit stuck with the other two, so I figured do something else. This started with a song, I won't name it, but then I figured I should make it into a proper fic, so now I want reviews if you want more.  
  
Author: Be impressed, be very impressed, I hope you like it and keep reading and reviewing cause that's why I'm writing so much so fast!  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Walking out of the room I see Sark pull his standard little mobile phone out of his pocket and put it to his ear. I raise my eyebrows and he smiles before pressing a button. Waiting a few seconds, as I watch up and down the hall, I hear him say, "I need the room cleaned out soon...Yes...Good," and then hang up. I grin at his English accent; it always makes me laugh especially since it isn't all that real.  
  
"Ready?" he asks me, I nod and he pushes the door open for me, stepping back, out of my way and giving me access. I'm hesitant at first, looking around searching for Jack, sure that he wouldn't have left but still not entirely confident that he'll be ready to co operate.  
  
I can't see him from the door way and so I walk in, wavering a little, preparing for him to jump out of a corner and grab me in a vain attempt to recapture me and gain some control. But he doesn't, he's sitting on the chair in the corner, near the window. He turns to look at me, his eyes truly looking as though he hates me, conveying that he feels a bottomless contempt for me and yet at the same time I can see that he wishes it were simpler, that he could just trust me.  
  
I turn and motion for Sark to join us; he does so quickly, standing just behind me to my right, close enough to whisper in my ear if he chooses. I open my mouth, but find it dry, knowing that if I can't convince Jack to come, our chances of getting Sydney and Vaughn out alive will become slimmer. Trying again, I say, "Good Morning Jack."  
  
He takes it as mockery, his face turning to a glare and a snarl falling from his lips as he responds, curtly. "Irina. What do you want?" Every word is syllabized and straight forward. But, I notice it now, I see what's changed.  
  
It's not that he hates me more; it's that, inside he wants to trust me now. The fact that I apparently betrayed him but then came back and helped, for the second time in a month, has him wanting to trust me. And he is covering that up with this hatred and disdain. Nice trick and, I realise, I was almost fooled. Knowing that I can't exactly tell him that I know what he's thinking, I answer his question as honestly as possible. "I want to save Sydney. After that I really don't care." Hearing a sigh from Sark that probably wouldn't have reached Jack's ears, I hasten to add another clause to the verbal contract. "Of course, I expect that Sark will be allowed to remain at SD-6 and this entire mission's rehash to be void of his involvement.  
  
Jack raises an eyebrow, not impressed at my idea of re releasing Sark into the wild, I grin at him, the thought humorous in my eyes, a quick image of Sark being let out of a cage in a Tarzan suit in the middle of the forest, flicking through my mind.  
  
He nods and looks at me properly; his eyes wandering down and then up, twice, possibly because he can't stop himself. Sark just rolls his eyes and dramatically sighs eliciting a giggle from me and forcing Jack to stop his surveillance. Looking at me, his eyes softer now but still too cold for me to consider them welcoming or even nonchalant, he asks, "What's with the clothes?"  
  
I look down at myself and laugh, "The heels are explosives and Sark seems to think that I'm going to need to look good to get in." Sark grins and I look at him carefully, knowing that he might just want to see me trying to run in this get up and have no real reason for me wearing it. Jack nods and walks over to the case which lies open, several different guns and gadgets lying on top. Seeing them, Sark walks over. He always has been partial to gadgets, I'll never know why. I stand my ground, eager to watch them together.  
  
Sark is playing with a pair of earrings; I look at them vigilantly, seeing that they are large green hanging things with beautiful, exotic looking feathers hanging from each of them. Turning them over in his hand while Jack ignores him fully, Sark asks, over doing the accent probably just to irritate me, "What do they do?"  
  
Jack's head turns to look at what Sark's looking at and he smirks. "Press the green button in the centre on either one twice and it will leak out sleeping gas. Enough to knock out a room." Sark grins and pockets them.  
  
Ten minutes later, they're still doing the same thing, I've taken a seat on the bed and I'm slowly growing bored of watching them fiddle with yet another small and probably never to be used object. Jack is still trying to ignore Sark, while Sark ignores Jack ignoring him and continues to ask questions, the first three times it was comical, but now it is just annoying. Standing up, I speak, "We'd want to get moving soon."  
  
Jack loads his gun and hitches it onto his belt, loading another he pokes it under the buckle on the back of his pants. Pulling down the blue top he's chosen, he checks in the mirror to see that both guns are fully concealed.  
  
Nodding to me, still hostile but not as much hatred as he cools off, I wait for Sark to join us. He pockets a few more of the smaller gadgets, having little or no idea what they're for and turns to look at me, satisfied grin still present. I shake my head and hold my hand out, Sark, seeing the familiar movement throws his cell to me quicker than I'd expected and I dial the number I want. Putting it to my ear, I watch Jack as he glares at me with false disgust and I wait for an answer.  
  
A strong Russian accent on the other end, "Hello?"  
  
I grin, recognising his voice, "Ivan, we're done here, clear rooms thirty three and thirty four." I grin at Jack and he just maintains his disdain filled glare.  
  
Ivan, an old man of eighty, is obviously glad to hear my voice, "Irina? Is that you? My goodness, we all thought you were dead." I grin.  
  
"Don't tell anyone." I ask him, knowing I don't have to, trusting him with my life.  
  
"Of course not, but what happened?"  
  
I look at Jack for a moment before answering, "I'm working with the CIA now."  
  
His voice comes back at me, fast and excited, "You got in without being given the death sentance?"  
  
I smile into the phone, hoping that Jack's hearing isn't too good. "Yeah, finally worked out a way."  
  
Ivan replies, "It's good to hear from you, we'll have those rooms cleaned out as soon as you're out. Good luck."  
  
He hangs up and I glance at my watch seeing that if I'd spent another second on the phone we'd have been open to being traced.  
  
I turn to Jack, the corner of my mouth edging up as I've now heard an old friends voice. "Let's go," I tell them and I watch the contrast in their faces; Sark grinning like a maniac and Jack just scowling like I was the enemy. Like I was the one that has our daughter.  
  
My grin dimmed and I felt myself frowning. Shaking the feeling of guilt, I walked out the door, listening for the two pairs of footsteps that inevitably followed. Sark appeared at my side seconds later, Jack lagging, a couple of metres behind.  
  
I feel Sarks' breath near my ear and I what for him to say whatever he plans on saying, after a couple of seconds, his voice comes out, slinky and hushed so that Jack can't hear, his words more serious than anything he has said so far. "He's more closed up than you."  
  
I have to look at him for a moment, wondering what compelled him to say it and silently agreeing, a sad look of regret taking over my features even as I try to ward it off. Sark sees them and moves away, dropping behind until we get to the front desk. I pay for the two rooms and give the receptionist a large tip.  
  
Outside, Sark has somehow managed to nab himself a black topless Mercedes and it's waiting, parked on the gravel, taking up much of the room. Looking at the rental four wheel drive, I choose to ride in with Sark and ask Jack, truly leaving the decision up to him, "Which car do you want, I'm riding with Sark?" He looks at me, shocked for a moment that I would give him such an option.  
  
But then he looks mad again and he says his voice bitter and biting, though not really that way, "You think I would leave you alone in a car that can out pace my own?"  
  
It's a lame excuse, I can see that, but what do I care, I shrug and get into the Mercedes, taking the front passenger seat and pulling the dark sunglasses down from my hair to sit on my nose. Seeing this, Sark gives Jack his pair and explains: "Direct camera link to each other," he shows him the buttons and Jack nods curtly, getting into the car and sitting behind Sark, undoubtedly so that he can watch me.  
  
Sark looks at us once, both of us looking, quite blatantly, away from each other and he has to grin, hiding it from Jack's sight as he ducks down and gets into the car, grabbing the steering wheel while he shoves the key, far too hard, into the ignition and turns it, revving the car as much as he thinks needed to get me to laugh, rewarding him for his trouble, I chuckle a little.  
  
Grinning, I watch him as he steps on the accelerator and drives out of the parking area, spitting gravel everywhere and possibly dinting the 4 wheel drive rental. I sigh and lean out the side, feeling the wind in my hair and feeling delirious, all the while glancing at Jack in the mirror.  
  
Movement from Sark startles me and I watch as he reaches across and pops the glove box open, grinning at my, eyes peeking over the top of hie glasses, he pulls a cream silk scarf out and hands it to me. I grin again, doing it for the last time that day, I promise myself, and take it from him. Every mission he brings me a new scarf, always beautiful and always good quality and this is no exception.  
  
I can see Jack watching me, with envy perhaps, or maybe even jealousy, I laugh a little and gain a lop sided look from Sark. Tying my hair up in the scarf, a few tendrils still hanging down about my face but the rest flying back under control, I turn to look at Jack, twisting my whole body around in the seat and smile. "You ready for this?"  
  
It's a playful remark, though nothing that I think deserves a harsh answer. None the less, Jack scowls at me and refuses to comment. My face falling quickly, I turn back around and glare at the road ahead, the taller buildings looming closer and closer. I've been to the factory before, it's the front for Cuvee in Oceania and it does well, making a little out of glass sales but not enough to be noticed. At the back, there is a building, five stories high. First story is legitimate, all administration of the company but the second, third, forth and fifth floors are dedicated to interrogations and research. Almost every meeting I had with Cuvee while is business with him was here, the remaining few conferences taking place in the building that was practically taken down on my last mission with Jack.  
  
I expect Sydney will be being kept in an underground cell and that she will be brought up for interrogation sometime around eleven, the process Cuvee uses usually involving making them wait several hours before hand, just to get their nerves up.  
  
I shiver involuntarily and see that Sark noticed. Smiling, I nod to him and his eyes return to the road. Forty minutes later, just after eight am we pull up outside a café and Sark gets out, grinning all the while. I roll my eyes and follow him.  
  
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	6. Cafes and Blueprints

Title: Escape  
  
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows  
  
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them  
  
Notes: Yes, another one, I'm a bit stuck with the other two, so I figured do something else. This started with a song, I won't name it, but then I figured I should make it into a proper fic, so now I want reviews if you want more. : Be impressed, be very impressed, I hope you like it and keep reading and reviewing cause that's why I'm writing so much so fast!  
  
Author: Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending.  
  
Chapter Six  
  
The café's name is Café Toboka, an exotic name but it means nothing to me or Jack, I don't think as he is looking up and down the street, a sower look still on his face. Taking my glasses off, I follow Sark in and find myself in a small room with perhaps twelve tables, each with a dark red table cloth, a small vase of dead flowers and varying numbers of sets of knives, forks and spoons accompanied by a rotting wooden chair.  
  
Sark moves over to where a petite little Malaysian woman is standing near a door. Whispering something in her ear, I'm once again shocked at how easily Sark manages to charm the ladies. She grins and laughs, looking from me to where Jack in standing in the door way.  
  
No one else is in here, just the three of us and the woman and possibly a few chefs getting ready for the breakfast crowd out the back. And as Sark continues to whisper things, none of which I really want to know about in her ear, I look around more carefully, keeping an eye on Jack the whole time. There are no windows, but the front of the shop is all glass, slim cream blinds are pulled back to the side allowing anyone to look in as they walk up or down the street. The walls are a peach colour which is mixing with the red tables and carpet to make me sick. There are two doors leading out, one that I believe to be heading to the kitchen and another for the toilets.  
  
There are lights everywhere, all turned off as the early sun shines in, and two fans hanging from the roof due to the hot weather that is so common here in the tropics, the kind of weather I love. Sark finishes his little whispered speech and the woman giggles, again looking at me. She calms down and nods to Sark. Disappearing into the kitchens, she returns after perhaps thirty seconds and locks the front door, locking us all in and arousing a look of suspicion from Jack. I, on the other hand, completely trust Sark. The woman unhooks the blinds, making sure no one can see in and turns some of the lights and both fans on. She smiles at Sark who just winks seductively and watches her back as she leaves, returning to the kitchens.  
  
Turning, he grins spreading his arms, "Pick a table."  
  
Jack is still watching us with growing dislike from near the door. I look at him, slightly upset that he would put getting mad at me before rescuing Sydney. I shake my head, knowing this isn't the time nor place to start an argument. Moving, I choose the large round table in the middle and move to sit down, still beaming at me, Sark pulls my chair out and I take a seat, smiling at him as he continues to play.  
  
Disappearing outside, he leaves Jack and me alone. Jack wanders over to the table and sits down directly opposite me. He glares at me, leaning back in his seat and with his arms crossed over his chest. Rolling my eyes, I try to reassure him, "Relax, it'll all go off without a hitch." He just continues to glare at me, leaning forward a little and moving the vase, salt and pepper out of the way so that we can see each other.  
  
Still his face is steely hard, not a flicker of emotion or warmth just a cold stare. I sigh and look down, hoping my show of submission will dim his anger. He suddenly speaks, "Why have you agreed to go back to the cell? Even if you aren't planning on returning you wouldn't have to lie, you're the one in control."  
  
Seeing what he means, my passion flashes as I realise how horrible Jack really thinks I am, "It's simple, I am going back to that cell." Jack smirks, nothing like a smile, just a disdain filled smirk; his lips twitching up for a moment before returning to their standard frown. "It's true, because, unlike you, I put Sydney's life before everything else."  
  
Jack just glares at me, a small pin prick of confusion clouding his vision. I elaborate, "If I had to choose between escaping and rescuing Sydney, I'd choose to save my daughter."  
  
Stupidly, he just remarks, his voice now passionate and with a little life in it, "You're lying." It's a stupid thing to say and automatically my face turns until I'm looking at him as though he were a young child who had just contradicted himself for the tenth time. My mouth opens a little, the millions of come backs fighting to come out first, my eyes move until they have a look of disbelief, my eyebrows high and my forehead furrowed.  
  
"Then why the hell am I here?" Jack's eyes flicker for a moment, realising that if I truly wanted to escape without care for Sydney of Agent Vaughn I would have killed him and left by now.  
  
Of course, a few seconds later his face returns to looking at me with anger and rage piled up and he spits out, "You're sadistic, I've always known that, you want to see how much more damage you can do."  
  
I roll my eyes to hide the pain and am about to say something else when Sark walks back through the front door, a large black folio at his side and his head cocked as he blatantly shows that he knows he has interrupted something. Frowning, I look at him, telling him with my eyes to get on with it.  
  
He just grins again and for a second I imagine wiping the smug look from his face, some times his charm turns to annoyance and I wonder why I put up with him. Still, I would never just leave him, fair is fair and he trusts me so I trust him. I smile as he sits down and claps his hands loudly, neither I nor Jack flinching at the sudden bang.  
  
The girl rushes out, her long hair having been brushed since we last saw her and a little make up around her eyes, I cough to cover a laugh. She glares at me, obviously seeing me as competition and goes straight to Sark. Leaning over him, Sark whispers again in her ear, she giggles and is gone.  
  
My curiosity finally wins out and I ask him, "What have you been saying to her?"  
  
Sark, looks up from where he is pulling papers out of the folio onto the table and looks startled for a second. "Just the usual, that I am a James Bond," he pours more and more British into each word and I want to shudder and laugh at the same time, but I don't, "That I need the space because I am trying to save the world." I look at him disbelievingly. "And then I slipped her the equivalent to a thousand American dollars and she agreed to do what ever I asked."  
  
He grins at me and goes back to pulling large sheets of paper out of the black folio. I smile at him and ask him further, "So you're James Bond and we are?"  
  
He grins his eyes flashing with mischief, "My recently divorced, squabbling parents." He looks up quickly at Jack before continuing with an air of indifference and snobbishness. "She's very pretty, but very gullible, I don't see any resemblance to either of you."  
  
Jack turns his glare from me to Sark and I relax a little out of his line of view. The cover is stupid and won't hold if the girl is questioned, but still, this will, I hope, all be over by the end of the day and Vaughn, Jack, Sydney and I will all be on a plane back to LA where I will be thrown into my cell, Jack will probably be arrested for breaking me out and Vaughn and Sydney, without further ado, will, I hope, get married and get my some grandchildren.  
  
I grin at the thought but cover it with a hand as Jack's eyes move back up to meet mine, his glare slightly different now, softer and more like scrutiny and deliberation than flat out hatred, of course, in an hours time, it will probably be back to hatred, but for the moment I relish the thought that he might not hate me right now.  
  
A half hour later, Sark is still pointing out points of entry and escape on the blueprints of the third and second story of the building while Jack has decided to put his dislikes behind him and concentrate on the mission at hand. Smiling, I point out a door that appears to lead no where and ask, "Where does this one go?"  
  
Sark looks at it and flips through the blue prints of the other stories, he shrugs and looks at some papers he has on his lap, no room remaining on the table. "Oh, hang on," he reads a little more and nods answering, "We seem to think that that particular door goes into a lab that Cuvee was developing for the flower."  
  
I grin, the memories of India flooding back and risk commenting, "Which he will no longer be using, thanks to us." I emphasise the word and hope it affects Jack in some way. On the outside his eyes remain on the papers, his mind working to memorise them.  
  
Eventually, after we are all sure we know the place like the back of our hands; Sark begins to detail the mission he has planned out. "Okay, so we get in, go straight to the second floor." He waits for me to interrupt, knowing that I'll ask how he plans on getting us in.  
  
Obviously very pleased with himself, he held his breath and I eventually asked, not prepared to waist time playing games with him, "How do we get in?"  
  
"Ah, that's the fun bit," I have a brief vision of Sark looming over the world laughing like a maniac and rubbing his hands together, but don't let him see what I'm thinking. "You are the incredibly rich, incredibly satiable Miss Rouge," I laugh at the name, "Just do what you usually do, apparently Cuvee is too embarrassed to tell anyone, including the receptionists that you, the woman who visited him so many times is no longer welcome."  
  
I'm slightly shocked that Cuvee would be so careless and ask him, "Are you sure?" He nods, grinning still, "So I just walk in and say he will be expecting me?" He nods again, "You're sure it's that simple?"  
  
He raises his eyebrows are shrugs, "You will be escorted to the elevator and left there, instead of pressing two, press three and you'll be on the right level in seconds." He pauses, looking at Jack, still not sure where he stands before continuing, "We'll be there as you usual henchmen."  
  
I nod, carefully pondering the situation, it seems too easy. "What about security?" I see Jack nod out of the corner of my eye and automatically my head whips around to face him, he looks down, realising that he's just agreed with my question. I smile softly and turn back to Sark, waiting for an answer.  
  
"Tough," he explains and getting out the blueprint of level three, he starts pointing out the positions. "Your daughter could be in any of these rooms, most likely, one of these," he points to two rooms on opposite sides of the building and to several more scattered about. "There's no way of knowing unless we go and check manually." I nod, noticing this is the hard part. "There will probably be just fewer than thirty men on the floor and another ninety scattered above and below. I know for a fact that most of them will be patrolling this hallway," he points out an area we shouldn't need to go near and I breathe a sigh of relief. "Another ten will concentrate on the area around here, it's the labs and Cuvee has become more and more paranoid lately. He told me himself."  
  
Sark grins and I nod, waiting for him to continue, "I don't know how bad it will be nearer to Sydney, there's no way of telling, but I wouldn't expect too many as Cuvee thinks that you're in America and unable to attend." He smiles, showing he knows something I don't, but I leave it. "Other than that, it's just if any guard gets a call out that we're there, we'll have a lot of trouble." I nod, happy with the situation, knowing it could be worse.  
  
I look at Jack, his face has become serious as he realises how bad this is and I state, "So, it's about speed and getting out." I look to Sark and he quickly points out our means of escape.  
  
"Here, through the ducts and then off the third story wall, here, straight out this window, or this one and down, or up and off the roof." I nod, turning my head so I have a better view of the papers."  
  
Sark raises his eyebrows and looks at his watch, he grins secretively and claps his hands again.  
  
Very long chapter for me, so please, read and review!!!!! Remember, keep reviewing, I'll keep updating this quickly. 


	7. Breakfast and the Merc

Title: Escape  
  
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows  
  
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them  
  
Notes: Yes, another one, I'm a bit stuck with the other two, so I figured do something else. This started with a song, I won't name it, but then I figured I should make it into a proper fic, so now I want reviews if you want more. : Be impressed, be very impressed, I hope you like it and keep reading and reviewing cause that's why I'm writing so much so fast!  
  
Author: Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending.  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
I wait for something to happen and after several minutes, during which Sark's face falls a little, the woman reappears, four plates balanced up and down her arms, she grins at Sark who lightens up as she places the plates in front of us, on top of the blueprints, before leaving, promising to be right back. I grin, seeing that Sark has thought of his stomach once again, and look a t my wrist, checking the time and seeing we have no reason to leave just yet.  
  
"Thought we could use a bite to eat," Jack glares at him but I can see he's hungry having not eaten in a long while, he lets his eyes sweep over the large plates and taking in the pancakes, bacon, eggs, fruit, potatoes and the array of shellfish typical of this part of the world. I know perfectly well that it was Sark's own want for food that brought this on but still, I can appreciate it, feeling quite hungry myself.  
  
The woman returns and places another plate of toast on the table along with three empty plates and three glasses, again she disappears and Sark raises his eyebrows, smiling at me and directing my attention back to Jack who's eyes are still lying on the pancakes, not surprising considering they were his favourite when we were married, not that he ever told anyone.  
  
Grabbing cutlery form a table near by, Sark sits back down just as the woman returns for the last time, leaving a jug of milk, a jug of orange juice and what appears to be a pot of coffee on the wooden table top. "Well," I comment once she's out of ear shot, knowing Sark wants me to thank him and will refuse to touch the food until I do. "You've done quite well for us, thank you." He grins and I lean over to grab a plate.  
  
Ten minutes later we're eating in silence, my own dish has the remainders of bacon and fruit all over it, my glass empty of coffee and I go to poor another one, my third, sliding my eyes over to where Jack is still, quietly and carefully eating his own pancakes. He's looking down, thinking hard, probably about this entire fiasco and I leave him alone, getting myself another coffee and spooning sugar into it.  
  
Sark has, as usual, eaten the most, trying a little of everything and more of the things he liked: the eggs and the shellfish. He grins at me, humour playing on his face and I furrow my brow, asking him what he thinks is funny with my eyes. I see Jack's head snap up as he somehow detects the conversation even though I'm sure it was silent. Sark just grins, knowing full well Jack is watching and grabs my chin from across the table.  
  
For a moment I think he's going to try to kiss me and I hear him chuckle as the thought passes over my face, the horror must of shown. Carefully he brings a white cotton napkin up from his lap and wipes what I figure if fruit from the corner of my mouth. I grin at him, lifting my hand to where he wiped, not slightly interested, but amused that I should be so careless. Then I see Jack staring at me intently, not scrutinising, and not glaring, just staring at me. And not at my eyes, but where Sark's hand was and I have to laugh.  
  
He looks up and his face returns to a glare as I expected. Suddenly overwhelmed by the hostility he's showing, I have to comment, in my usual calm and slow voice, "Jack, I'm telling you, relax." He just glares harder at me and I continue, my words closer together as I feel madness brewing, "I mean it, neither me nor Sark has done anything to upset you, neither of us has shown any kind of hostility," I see Sark open his mouth and predict the smart remark, throwing him a look before continuing, "I'm here to save Sydney and Agent Vaughn and if you don't want me here, tell me now and I will go and I will get on a plane and when you get back to LA, I'll be there. Waiting for you, in my cell." He's not glaring anymore, just looking at my unconvinced.  
  
Out of the corner of my eye I see Sark's brow furrow as he sees something I don't, but I ignore him, still pushing, "I mean, honestly, what more do you want?"  
  
He relents, I see it, he's always wanted to trust me, he's just been looking for an excuse and as I watch him I can see him going over the evidence for and against my apparent loyalty in his head, finally shrugging and looking down, silently relenting, but still glaring now at Sark, his face softening to indifference mixed with a few other things I can't name when he turns to me. I laugh, adding, "Now just because you've decided to be nice to me it doesn't mean you should go and glare at Sark the rest of the day."  
  
He looks at me, slightly taken back, as he realises how well I know him. Still, he doesn't glare, just looking down and taking one more mouthful of pancake, before he pushes the plate away and nods, signalling he's done. I smile at him, softly, so as not to alarm and I here Sark sigh as he rolls his eyes. I turn and glare at him, Jack's voice taking me by surprise, his words really an offering for an alliance, "I don't think you should tell me not to glare at him and then just turn around and glare at him anyway."  
  
I grin, unable to stop myself. Finally some progress. I anticipate Sark's sigh before he lets it out again and, looking at Jack, trying to have fun but nervous about the sudden change in the dynamic of the relationship, or lack of one, between us, I roll my eyes. Sark's voice interrupts me as I try to interpret a new emotion I can see creeping into Jack's eyes, "Okay, I'll meet you two out with the car."  
  
I shake my head, teasing him and getting him back for his session of eye rolling and sighs, "You going to catch up with the waitress, " he glares and nods defiantly, the two actions contradicting each other, I smile and wave lightly, making my way out to the car.  
  
Outside, it's heating up and the sun is shining brightly, I put the glasses back on and look at the Mercedes. As usual, Sark was stupid enough to leave its top open with the keys in the ignition; I believe that he thinks it excites me, that he's such a risk taker. I don't find it exciting, considering it's always my money he's leaving on the streets unprotected.  
  
I look back to the café and see no sign of Sark, grinning, I turn to Jack, "You want to drive? Or shall I?"  
  
Jack just looks at me for a minute, a little bemused and obviously feeling the same as me about our newfound alliance. "Sark is notorious for not letting anyone else drive his cars."  
  
I smile at him, "First of all, it's my car," I see him look over the sleek black body with new found appreciation, "And if that were the case, perhaps he shouldn't leave the keys in the ignition." I point through the window and Jack looks at me, smiling a little and even if his eyes are still guarded, I consider it an improvement.  
  
"You drive," he walks around to the passenger door, deciding, quite bravely, I think, to ride up front with me, "I don't think I'm ready to upset Sark."  
  
I smile and open the door, slipping in onto the leather with as much grace as I can muster after such a large breakfast. Jack's just slipped in beside me, doing his seat belt up, obviously remembering how I drive, when Sark walks out the front door, the young woman's lips glued to his cheek and it's only when he shuts the door on her that she backs off. Turning, he straightens his shirt and his face falls when he find me sitting in the driver's seat, Jack beside me.  
  
I wave at him, my face lighting up as he gets into the back seat, his face sullen and grumpy. I grin at him, manoeuvring the rear vision mirror so that I can see him for the rest of the trip, Jack just sits silently, still not sure of Sark. I start the engine and we're soon speeding through the city on our way to rescue Sydney and Agent Vaughn. Ten minutes from the building, I look at Sark and ask, "Anything else we should know?"  
  
He's still grumpy, but I doubt it will last once we're getting some action. "In the glove box." He gives no more details and I wait for Jack to open it, not prepared to risk leaning over to do it myself. I watch as he does so, the peak hour traffic in the middle of the city not bothering me as I swerve around a yellow jeep that I believe to be travelling too slowly. Jack rummages around for a while and ends up pulling out a mahogany jewellery box.  
  
Sark grins from the back and I can't guess what he's up to this time. Jack throws a quick glance my way to see if I know what's inside, seeing that I have as much idea as he does, he opens it and pulls out a thin silver chain, too long for my neck. Eyeing Sark, I ask, somewhat hesitantly, "What is it?"  
  
He smiles, sneakily, "It goes around your stomach, like a belt." I glare at him, having known that already.  
  
"Yes, good and why am I going to put it on?" Jack watches us with interest and a little jealousy, I think.  
  
"Oh, well, I thought it would suit you," I move my head to a tilt and the unspoken threat causes him to hastely expand, his voice losing some of the British, "And each link is full of C4." I smile, taking the chain from Jack and marvelling at how small the links are.  
  
A little stunned, Jack asks the question I've been thinking, "How does it work?"  
  
Happy to know something that Jack doesn't Sark, leans forward and answers, quite impressed with himself, "Tie it in a knot and the bundle will break off automatically, it's on a ten second fuse so when you throw it, run, quickly. The link will only give you about eight knots," he continues, looking at me before letting his eyes slide to Jack in assessment, "Which is your fault as any bigger and it wouldn't sit on your slim and, might I add, perfect figure."  
  
I scoff, turning around and hitting him with the hand that isn't holing the chain, leaving the wheel to itself or Jack, depending on how brave he is. Sark just cracks up, his eyes still looking past me and at Jack, his face serious as he thinks through the laughter. I slap at him again, missing and feeling inadequate for some strange reason. Turning back, I slide down the chair and feel a strong arm grazing my stomach. Looking I see that Jack did take the wheel and that his arm is right now pressed against the exposed flesh of my abdomen as the shirt slides up while my body slides down.  
  
I hear a gasp and a second later I realise it was from my lips. A moment later, but still moments later than it needed to be, Jack's arm recoils into his lap, and he stares straight ahead as I grip the wheel and split my concentration between him, Sark and going down the maze of back roads that will take us to the factory. Sark's just smirking at his own lap, refusing to meet my eyes in the mirror and I notice that the corner of Jack's mouth is upturned. Only a millimetre, but it makes me think.  
  
Turning another left, I pull the car up out the front of the factory and look at them both. Manipulating my body, I get the chain around my waist and quickly check that there is no way it can knot without me knowing. Getting out, I reorganise the head scarf and leave the sunglasses on, hoping they'll conceal my true identity from anyone who knows me and knows I shouldn't be there. Taking a breath, I start to walk, flipping into my usual character like a second skin.  
  
Review please oh please oh please 


	8. Elevators and Accessories

Title: Escape  
  
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows  
  
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them  
  
Notes: I went out today and saw Lord of the Rings and that was an 8 hour thing what with lunch and shopping and tomorrow I have to be up at 5 to go fishing, so be very impressed that I am up at 11pm writing the notes for ALL FOUR STORIES! But hey I love it and I love it because I love all of the reviews I get. I was upset this morning because there were none there, but that was cause the site broke, but when I got back from the movies, there were heaps, so thank you, I love them and look how hard they make me work. Be warned, none of these have been proofed because I'm way too tired, so any major problems, I apologise in advance. Enjoy them and if you don't know how to get more you're obviously brain dead: reviews!!!!  
  
Author: Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending.  
  
Chapter Fifteen  
  
I can hear Jack and Sark walking behind me and glance back, smug smile in place, at them. They're both walking, hands in their pockets, bar Sark who is carrying a small unthreatening suitcase, dark clothing and sunglasses making them truly appear as any of Cuvee's henchmen would look like and much like the ones I used to bring. This brings me a new surge of confidence but I still can't shake the feeling that what I'm about to do is dangerous and serious, unlike most of my other work as this one decides the fate of my daughter.  
  
I wait at the doors, Jack and Sark slipping by my sides, the entire entrance playing out like something from a movie. Their steps are in time and they push the double glass doors open with ease, stepping away and holding them back to give me access. I breeze through, my head high, smirk taking over as I look around the front reception area. It's exactly like what I remember. Not too small but not too grand, a little, mousy women I've never met is sitting behind a huge white desk that connects to the wall behind her and hides her legs and feet from my view.  
  
She's watching me carefully and turn my head slightly so that Jack can see me, I flicker my eyes to her and he knows, straight away what to do, the plan we'd gone over ten times in the café starting again, just now in real life. He sweeps past me, leaving Sark to stand, a metre behind and one to the left, glasses still there and face serious while I'm sure his eyes would tell another story if one could see them.  
  
I listen carefully, pretending to take in the drab walls, dying pot plants and several doorways, along with the elevator I need to get into. Jack's waiting for the woman to address him, his character perfect for the job and I can't help but grin a little, pretending to cough to cover it, he fits the role and is pulling the whole thing off for us with ease. I hear him tell her in a gruff voice, "Miss Rouge is here to see Cuvee," simple and perfect, his voice the perfect mixture of contempt, boredom and assertiveness.  
  
She glares at him for a minute, staring past him to me and says, "You're not on the list." Jack knows this wasn't the plan, he knows that the receptionist was supposed to know me and let me right through but he recovers wonderfully and I hide my face by turning, letting loose an exasperated sigh and going to perch on one of the white leather couches in the corner, Sark mirrors my movements, taking a seat and watching Jack, a little nervous, I'd say.  
  
"Then you haven't been working here long enough," Jack's harsh with her and I can feel her glaring at all three of us, none the less, I turn in time to see her pick up the phone and hit a number. I pray she isn't calling Cuvee, but Jack, who is close enough to hear, makes no move to run for the elevator.  
  
She looks back up and whispers, knowing I'm listening, "Just a minute," and goes back to filing paperwork. Jack returns to my side, not saying a word and not giving anyone any reason to respect, I admire him for that. A moment later, the old receptionist enters and bends to speak to the girl, I can't make out what she is saying, but her voice is hard and punishing. She turns away and smiles at me from behind the desk.  
  
"Right this way," I smirk, not in thanks or anything nice but in contempt for the lower class and I move for the elevator, not waiting for her to join us. I can hear that Jack's footsteps are perfectly timed with Sarks and I wonder what we must look like. I lean over pressing the button, letting my heels click on the floor as I wait, almost, I think, forcing the receptionist to apologise for the elevator's slowness.  
  
She ushers us in and moves to press the button for us, Sark blocks her quickly, smirking and watching her from the other side as the doors close, she just stares at him and he moves his finger to the button marked two, pretending to press it, I see her expression change from suspicion to disdain and I breath a sigh of relief. Sark presses the number three and I watch them both, smiling, knowing we've now done the easy bit.  
  
Jack rolls his neck and I hear it crack, Sark just waits, now in front of me, centred in the small room, suitcase in front of him, both hands holding it up. I look at him and hold out a hand. "I want another gun." His expression turns down, he knows that I'm feeling uneasy, but he can obviously feel the tension, the feeling that is hanging the air. The feeling that always hangs in the air before something goes terribly wrong.  
  
He doesn't comment, handing me a gun from his own hip, but Jack sees us and does, "Something's gone wrong hasn't it?" I don't know how all three of us feel it, but we do and all I can do is shrug as the doors open.  
  
I half expect guards to take us out straight away, but the place in front of us in deserted, a hallway going on for perhaps forty meters is without a single person and I quickly get my bearings, looking to my right I begin to run, heading for one of the two rooms Sark thinks we'll find them in, from behind me I hear Sark hiss, keeping his voice low so we won't be heard, "Split up?"  
  
And before I can answer, Jack answers for me, taking control but not upsetting me at all, "No, stay close." I know Sark must be looking at me a little stunned and still not sure, so I quickly nod and double my pace, having to concentrate on running in the heels just not to twist both ankles, we pass a hallway and looking down it, I see two guards, both with their backs to us and I wonder if I should take them out.  
  
For some reason, I decide not to, just continuing to run, veering to the left and then to the right, through a door, quicker than I should have, but still going at full pace, knowing something's wrong. I hear Jack at my heels and from behind a shot. I don't bother to look, knowing Sark must have taken one out, a guard that will remain on the floor and possibly raise the arm.  
  
If I had the breath, I'd yell at him, but I don't and I keep running, sure I know where I'm going, I hang another left, then another, the corridor curving and making my sense of direction weak. Still, I run, past four white doors on my left, one I know leads to a lab, another to a deserted office, they might use for interrogation. But I'm sure Cuvee wouldn't have the guts to leave a daughter of mine in such a room, positive he will have chosen one of the two square, empty, whitewashed rooms he always uses instead.  
  
Slowing, Jack's at my shoulder, for a second I turn and see Sark skid to a halt with us, the white door in front of us is the one I need to go through, the one I hope to find Sydney, unharmed, unguarded and conscience. I look at Jack who pulls a semi automatic from his hip and raises it, his finger on the trigger; I go to move in first but a hand on my waist stops me.  
  
I want to hit him, for wasting time, but he shakes his head and pushes past me, whispering, his voice shaky and scared, "On most occasions, ladies first, but not here." He opens the door, slowly at first, listening for noises. A muffled shout hits me and I wonder what we're going to see, Jack bursts through, gun going everywhere, his hands fast, his eyes quicker.  
  
Then I see him drop the weapon to his side and a look of both relief and desperation merging to give him a look of intense fear and, more scared that I remember ever having been, I walk in behind him, my gun still raised. Sark wanders in and the three of us quickly untie Agent Vaughn, his hands and feet are tied, his face a little bloody and his mouth gagged, but he looks uninjured.  
  
Gaping for air, I can see him trying to work out what to say to us first, he's shocked to see me, more so to see Sark, happy to see Jack, relieved to be released and scared for Sydney. Blocking the enormous flow of words about to fall from his mouth, I cut across him, "Where is she." My eyes are still scanning the room in desperate hope she's there but we just haven't seen her.  
  
He takes another breath and looks to Jack, quickly to see whether he can trust me, Jack just nods, looking ready to hit him, should Vaughn choose to take another second in answering. "I don't know, Cuvee said he was taking her to be interrogated," he pauses, trying to remember something and I hold my own breath, hoping can recall, "He said the other white interrogation room."  
  
I know where it is, Sark was right about the rooms, and now all I have to do is get to her before they realise what's happening. I don't bother to say anything else, and leave Sark to deal with Vaughn, I grab for Jack's hand, the electricity still there, but I ignore it, knowing this is defiantly not the time or the place. He comes after me, running at the same pace. I can hear Sark helping Vaughn along, perhaps thirty meters behind us and us I rush through door after door, I have to pick up the pace. I push myself harder, wondering how Jack can manage such speeds. But then I remember, his daughter's in there too, we're in this together.  
  
I round another corner and run through a door, ahead of us I know that the next door should bring us out into ten or eleven guards and I look at Jack, to be sure he's ready. He is, a gun in his hand and facing straight ahead as we smash through the white door that looks like all the others, to my right, I can see the corner that will lead us straight to the door to the other interrogation room and the second elevator that joins directly to Cuvee's office and for a fraction of a second I wonder what it would feel like to go and kill him for what he's dared to do, but then I hear a gun shot and feel the wiz of a bullet past my head.  
  
Jack's firing quickly, yelling something as though he should have thought of it before, catching it the second time, I hear him, "The chain, use it now." Cuvee has upped his security, his guards trained to fire at anyone running and not to ask questions.  
  
Realising, I nod and move behind him, hoping for cover as I rip the chain away from my stomach, pulling a few inches of skin with it, I bite my lip and look at it. Starting at the end that has a tiny heart dangling from it, I tie a know and grin as a piece of the chair falls into my hand, moving out, I count in my head, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, I look at jack, yelling over the racket of fire, hoping to god he hasn't been hit, "Ready," he nods and I throw it as hard as I can at the remaining seven guards, Jack has already got four of them on the ground.  
  
I cover my ears as I continue to count, two, one, and wait, nothing, Jack stares at me, his arm falling as he sees me. He's staring at me is shock, knowing we can't take them out without the C4. I have to wonder what's happened to Sark and Vaughn, but in those few minutes, a few bullets whizzing past, I just stare at Jack, wishing I had the time to say sorry properly, but knowing I don't. I lean in, unable to control myself, knowing this is how I want to die, knowing this is the way to go. Closer and closer to him, but then, I'm interrupted, a wall of sound and fire hitting my back as the C4 finally goes off. I turn around and grin, Jack looking for a minute before turning back to me, far too aware of what I'd been about to do.  
  
Before he can speak, I'm off again, walking around the corner and straight past the lift even though I hear it ping, turning around I find Jack just in front of me, staring as the numbers glow as the lift passes them, it's just passed tow and the colour settles on the three, glowing red and not moving any further. I know the doors are going to open, so quickly I turn around and try to the door I know Sydney's behind, but it's locked.  
  
Jack looks at me a second, completely frightened and I just look at him, feeling sorry for the both of us as the doors begin to open, I go for my gun but find it has slipped and fallen, Jack stares at me, showing me that all of his guns are out and together we wait for the elevator doors to reveal who stands behind them...  
  
Well, okay, I went out and came home and my back hurts and my neck hurts and my fingers and I haven't watched TV in days, argggg, But I love it so review please. 


	9. Shame on you if you fool me once, shame ...

Title: Escape  
  
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows  
  
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee, and Jack and Irina must race to save them  
  
Notes: Enjoy people and read and review. Special thank you to Meg for proofing this one! Very helpful is she. Thank you! If you hadn't guessed, it's me, Aeria, Aeryn, Doona, depending where you know me from. Um, if you haven't read my other two, go read them: Wish List and True Lies. I live off reviews and promise more soon if I get them. I realise this is simular to True Lies, but it won't be really, cause it is different. Oh and no prizes for guessing which song first got me started cause it is obvious.  
  
Author: Me Aeryn, Doona, Donna, Aeria, whatever.  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
We're just standing there, gawking, but I quickly recover when Cuvee steps out. His face is totally shocked and in seconds his gun is aimed high at me - he obviously sees me as the bigger threat. The adrenaline entering my system is nothing compared to what is already there and I take everything in without thinking, my brain racing ahead of everything else. Without a second passing, I can see what would usually take me much longer. As the gun rises, I already know what he's wearing, a grey suit, dark purple shirt with a blue tie and black leather shoes, Italian, and I know that my opportunities for escape are quickly dwindling.  
  
Last time this all happened, I'd been alone, without anyone to force to play along, it had been easy to trick him. He'd walked in, totally knowing I was there and aimed a gun, not the one he has now, a different one, straight at me, smirking and looking like some sort of pathetic rat. He'd told me I'd been stupid and I'd played along, telling him that I must have appeared stupid and then made up an incredibly elaborate story, telling myself the entire time that he'd have to be insane to fall for it. But he had, and ten minutes later, he was playing straight into my hands.  
  
He'd left me in a room with Jack, had even trusted me with the key for goodness sakes, he was stupid and vain and I had managed to use those character traits to my advantage once. I have to say, I doubted I could pull it off again. But what other choices do I have? I look around and realize Vaughn and Sark must be just around the corner. Cuvee had looked shocked when he'd first entered, so he had no idea there were any problems, therefore, he had no idea Sark and Vaughn were running around his factory building. I have to make sure they stopped before racing around the corner into this mess. I adopt a loud tone, not a shout, but louder that what I'm used to and I see Cuvee take on a bemused expression as he doubtlessly wonders why. "Cuvee, nice to see you."  
  
I can hear the shake in my voice, but he just holds the gun straight at me, the muzzle aimed at my heart and it is now that I realise how to get out of it, what my best chance is and quickly I look to Jack, hoping he is going to be able to help, but he's just scowling, at Cuvee and then back to me. Obviously the shake in my voice wasn't as bad as I originally thought. I grab him roughly, grabbing both his hands and pull him in front of me, continuing in my loud tone, "I brought you a present."  
  
It's a ridiculous ploy, to fall for it again, so easily, would be unlikely so I wait for his questions. "Last time," his voice is shaky, but his hand steady, "You brought me a present, you took it back." I smile, waiting for him to continue, hoping my smirk and hardened eyes are working. "You'll do it again."  
  
I swallow, hoping it doesn't show, and continue, trying not to leave any gaps in our conversation as it would be typical of Sark to run quickly into this and have the pair of them shot before he could even pull out his gun. "I didn't have the information I wanted then. I took my chance, I was under the impression that you would understand." I sound like the one in authority and I can feel Jack trying to squirm out of my grasp as my lies start to affect him just as much as they are affecting Cuvee; they both seem to be believing me.  
  
Cuvee looks around, he can't, thank god, see the pile of dead men around the corner, and yet he seems to be looking for a way of finding evidence to support or disprove my display. I, myself, am shocked that he's falling for it. But, hey, if he wants to be stupid, I can trick him and I will. He asks, "What information."  
  
It's a small victory, he has taken the bait, but he's a heavy fish and he will try to get away. I take my time, "Jack, here, he works for SD-6." Jack tries to kick me, but misses, as he has no idea where I am, and I regret having to shove him, hard, eliciting a small grunt that, under other circumstances, would have made me wince. But I just grin and bear it. "SD-6 has a certain device," I smile at him and I can see the beginnings of curiosity, the hand holding the gun has slackened and there is no longer a finger on the trigger.  
  
"It belonged to Rambaldi," I know Cuvee isn't interested in the prophet as much as me, but I know that he knows people with money who are. "Known as the book of life. Heard of it?"  
  
Of course, he hasn't, I made it up, but I can still see him wanting to believe me, and the words come out in a hiss, "No. Should I have?"  
  
I shake my head, laughing, but before I can answer, Jack's foot smashes into my calf and I wince, not for him, because it hurt, but instantly I forgive him. The slight problem is, he can't read my mind and as I realise I've dropped my hands from where they were holding him in front of me, he veers away, up against the wall, looking at me with hatred and regret in his eyes and I do wince, faking a stumble to compensate for it in case Cuvee saw. He smiles at me, and whispers, "He doesn't seem to like you."  
  
I shake me head and look down to where a nasty purple bruise is already appearing just below the knee. I snarl and watch as Cuvee bends over. "I can't imagine you trying to pull this off a second time, unless it were true." I have to smile; he's falling for it, totally. What a stupid old man. "And then, your prisoner is obviously quite upset and not the type of upset where he's been told to look like that." Jack would run, but Cuvee has the gun on him. "That looks bad." I nod and run a hand over it; it does hurt, a lot.  
  
Cuvee looks at Jack, his head on an angle in mocking and steps in front of me. His gun raised high as he speaks, maliciously, "So, Mr. Bristow, we meet again." Jack looks ready to spit at him; inside I feel the same. "You're a fool to trust this woman." I grin behind him and Jack opens his mouth, I prepare myself, knowing what's coming, but never having dreamt of it's blast, God knows why Jack can manage to do this to me, but he can.  
  
"I never trusted her." I should kill Cuvee now, he's forgotten me, he has no idea I am even there and it would be so simple, just one good hit over the head. I can't use the C4, we're too close, but I could knock him out and then blow him up, and I wouldn't.ah veto, listen to Jack. But I want to, I deserve to have to listen to this and I sacrifice my chance of escape to listen. "She's always been a lying bitch, what makes you think I trust her?"  
  
Cuvee sniggers, it's horrible to watch, but I keep the grin in place, head high in case he turns around. "You loved her, you must have trusted her. You are too gullible." Jack's eyes flicker to me, that last piece of hope as he waits for me to prove Cuvee wrong, his mind openly working at trying to see why he was losing. "You married her, bedded her, had a child and now, she comes back and tricks you again."  
  
My smile is real now, Cuvee is more gullible than Jack, his back is turned and I could take him out straight away, but still I hesitate. Jack's voice is dead, uncaring, even for Sydney, it pains me, but I force myself to listen still, "She hasn't tricked me, she would like to think so, but she hasn't. She is here by necessity." Damn, there goes some of my leverage, if Cuvee questions him further, I might be revealed and my true intent shown. Already I can see Cuvee's head turned towards the door behind which Sydney is being kept.  
  
He turns back to me and asks, "This book, what do you want in return?" I smile, my cheeks hurt, my stomach feeling as though it is filled with fire, but outside, I look calm and slightly sadistic.  
  
"At first, I thought Sydney, but no." I turn in a complete circle, like I'm in a giant department store, picking out a piece of clothing. "I would rather to be able to just return to my old position." He raises an eyebrow; my rejection of my daughter's life for a job making him all the more sure of himself; Jack just looks mad. "All I need from you is a guarantee for trade and enough money to get me to Russia."  
  
He smirks, "If you shoot your husband, we have a deal."  
  
I grin, "He's not worthy to be called my husband." He's watching me, closely, watching for hesitation but not catching the horror I feel creeping throughout my body. Jack just glares at me, his eyes calling me everything he knows in the world that he despises. Inside I'm collapsing, on the outside, I walk over to Cuvee and grin, inching my mouth right up until it's an inch from my ear, I slide my eyes to look at Jack and whisper, "Deal."  
  
My hand slips down his arm to the gun and I slip my finger through the trigger, his hands and mine, both on the gun, one arm on either side of his body. And I wait, staring over his shoulder at Jack, I laugh and Cuvee's head turns towards me, in that split second it begins. Jack just standing stark still, watching me as my arms flex tighter around Cuvees neck and he lets go of the gun as the first signs of asphyxiation begin.  
  
Jack still doesn't understand and scrambles forward to grab the gun, picking it up to point it at both Cuvee and me, not sure who is on his side. My concentration lapses a second as I hear Sark skid around the corner, another pair of footsteps close behind him, and I see Vaughn run around behind him. Then I feel a hand collide with the side of my head and for a second everything is black, when I open my eyes again, Cuvee's leg is half way to my stomach and I have to throw myself to the ground to avoid the collision.  
  
Sark rushes forward and hits him hard in the side of the head, nocking him unconscious to the ground. I stand up, my chest heaving and a deep red colour visible on my own cheek. I raise a hand and realize I'm bleeding, not too badly, both from a gash in my head and a scratch on my arm. I sigh and rearrange my top, looking to Sark and grinned before turning to Jack, whose eyes are steely and glaring at me, still. I sigh and look to Cuvee.  
  
"Tie him up," I tell Sark before turning to the door behind which I pray I will find Sydney. I grab the handle and I'm ready to turn it when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn and see Jack, his expression bemused, but no longer glaring, he looks down and I ask, "What?"  
  
He looks to the side, suddenly, I think, unsure of himself. I duck my head to get him to look at me and he does, catching my gaze and holding it, his face hard and worn, but somehow sincere.  
  
Ahem, well none of you seem to like this one as it doesn't get as many reviews as my others, so I don't know if I should keep going. If you do want me to, please review and you'll get more soon. ;) Anyways, hope you liked it and reviews! 


	10. Byebye Merc

Title: Escape  
  
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows  
  
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them  
  
Notes: Enjoy people and Read and review, I hope you all had a great Christmas! I did! Yes, another one, I'm a bit stuck with the other two, so I figured do something else. This started with a song, I won't name it, but then I figured I should make it into a proper fic, so now I want reviews if you want more. Ahem, Read and review and enjoy, this one is also slowly drawing to a close. Anyways, hmmm, that's all.  
  
Author: If you hadn't guessed, it's me, Aeria, Aeryn, Doona, depending where you know me from.  
  
Chapter Ten  
  
I know he's about to say something, I have a pretty good idea of what, and I want to hear it, God knows why, but I do. Except right now, Sydney might be hurt on the other side of this door and I know he'll regret it if he does say it so I shake my head. I can't believe I wanted him to say it, but I know I did, I wanted to hear him saying something that wasn't spiteful, that wasn't out of hate or trying to manipulate me into something. To say something that he actually meant. He swallows, looking down and I push the door open, I walk through.  
  
This room's bigger than the other interrogation room; all sparkling silver, perfectly clean, three benches, knives everywhere so that the person about to be tortured can see the weapons about to be used on them, it's horrible and I feel a kick in my stomach as I look around, my eyes scanning the area for Sydney but not finding her. Jack pushes past me, still not making eye contact and for a second I feel a pang of sadness that I didn't tell him, that I didn't let him tell me. But then he's around the corner and I can hear him saying, his voice relieved and almost happy, "Sydney."  
  
I run after him, hearing Vaughn's footsteps behind me and the door swinging closed. Vaughn and I are with him in a moment, she'd around the corner, tired to the chair much better than Vaughn and with an ugly scrape to her arm, the material sliced through and blood pooling on the ground slowly. But other than that she appears okay, a little shocked to see Jack and when her eyes come up and meet mine her eyebrows raise even higher.  
  
Jack begins untying her arms from behind while Vaughn tugs the strip of black tape that's covering her mouth. I just watch, feeling happy that we've found them both but at the same time I'm guiltily aware of the fact that now I have to return to my cell, as promised. Her first words make me laugh a little, "Dad? Mom? Sark?" her voice rising in incredulity as she looks from one to the other. I turn around and Sark's just rushed through the door, pulling it shut and grabbed one of the aluminium tables, pushing it as hard as he can.  
  
He can't move it by himself, so a moment later Vaughn and I help to position it in front of the door.  
  
His only answer to Sydney's questioning look; "Hi babe," he looks at me, surprise and adrenaline mixing in his eyes, "We have to hurry."  
  
Jack's finished untying Sydney and she stands up, looking at Vaughn out of the corner of her eye and smiling. Jack asks the question for me, "Why." And we listen to Sark as he hastily goes to the window and drops the suitcase.  
  
"Cuvee woke up, he had time to radio for back up before I shut him up," my brow creases as I wonder.  
  
"Did you kill him?"  
  
"No, nocked him out and came straight in here. We have to go," by this stage he's put the suitcase down again, opened it and clicked a button that appears to have locked it onto the ground via ten titanium spikes. Inside the suitcase there are six clips connected to long plastic ropes, I can guess how we are going to get out and I'm quick to move to the window.  
  
"Should have killed him." Jack just looks at us all, not sure of what's going on so I explain. "Four jump ropes, there should be gloves somewhere," Sark pulls five from his pocket and hands them out, throwing one to me which I slip straight on. "Get a good grip and just jump. It'll stun your ankles when you land, but it's the best we can manage with so little time.  
  
I hear a bullet ricochet off the door and I motion for them to move, Sydney darts forward, Vaughn's hand propelling her to grab the line from Sark's outstretched hand. I still haven't managed to get the window open. "Gun!" Sark throws me his own without missing a beat and I catch it, stepping back, Sydney to my left, line already wrapped around her gloved hand twice. I pull the gun up and fire three shots, watching and waiting for the glass to disintegrate away. A second later it does, no spikes left in the frame and I only have the time to smile at Sydney before she runs through, jumping out and heading straight for the ground.  
  
The suitcase doesn't budge, but I hear three more shots at the door. "Come on gentlemen, let's move." Vaughn and Jack are quick to grab their own lines and they jump out the window, Jack first, in quick succession. I look at Sark who's just grinning at me, an edge of concern to him as more bullets hit the door; I can see tiny dints appearing as it weakens. "You first."  
  
He smiles and grabs his own line, he rushes past me and out, I hear a light thump on the ground and Cuvee's voice from outside, "There's no way they can jump the three stories without broken bones, take your time." I smirk, always so stupid was Cuvee, and grab my own line. I wrap it abound my hand twice and run at the window, I jump the three stories, abseiling once I turn around and landing hard and fast. The usual pain hits my feet and ankles but only for a moment.  
  
I let go of the wire and look to see if everyone's still alright. Sark's smirking, "I had the technician add something to the suitcase," he pulls out a small detonator and I smile. "Shall I?"  
  
I grin and nod, knowing he'd be devastated if I took it from him. He presses the button hard. Seconds later three windows shatter and the wall cracks, I grin at him and ask, "Would it have been enough to get Cuvee?"  
  
He shakes his head and I frown, I'm still not sure why I am so desperate to see him dead. "Only that room; might give him a shock though," he smiles again and the pair of us look at the other three. It's about now that I notice a security guard on his radio, shouting his head off in a foreign language and that I decide that it is time to go.  
  
I can see the Mercedes, still parked, roofless and keys in the ignition out the front of the factory. That's our only means of escape and we're damn lucky a common thief hasn't made off with it. I wonder how long it will take before there are guards pouring out of the building and not long after I'm running, full speed again, everyone else hot on my heels, towards the car.  
  
Jack, somehow, beets me, he's fast, but then I am still wearing the heels, he jumps the door with surprising agility and has the car ready to go by the time I've gotten to the other side, he throws the door open for me, leaning across the two seats and I grin, one side of my mouth twitching up as I slide in and slam it shut, seeing Sark wince as he comes nearer. I hear the remaining three get in the back and, as Jack speeds off, not quite as fast as I would like, I turn to find Sydney stuck between two males who, you'd swear hadn't been laid in a decade.  
  
Thinking about it more carefully, I surmise that there's a good possibility that it's close to the truth. Sark only likes to flirt, he never actually gets anywhere and, well Vaughn, well, he likes Sydney and I know that hasn't happened. I smirk at them, leaving my seatbelt off, far too high to care and ask, "Questions?"  
  
Sydney and Vaughn both open their mouths at once and I get the same questions, though Vaughn adds an interesting word I don't want to remember, "Why are you here?"  
  
I grin and Sark rolls his eyes, but I explain, "Your father broke me out of my cell." Sydney's mouth drops while Vaughn's eyes head accusingly towards Jack's back. I feel the car speed up as Jack obviously hits a main road. I can see a blue van behind us, there's a young child in the front seat of it and I pass it off as traffic and not a tail. "The CIA wasn't interested in saving you, your father was. He knew he couldn't do it without me so he decided to take me with him. Of course, now that you are alright, I'm returning to my cell."  
  
Sark rolls his eyes and sighs, melodramatically, "God knows why." I grin and wait for my next question, the wind attacking my hair and pushing it back to cover my face, whipping at my neck.  
  
"Where are we going now?" Vaughn asks the obvious question which I have no idea how to answer and I soon find myself facing Jack, asking him the same thing. He just looks at me blankly for a second, his mind ticking over as he changes lanes again on the freeway, speeding up to overtake a truck but not slowing down once he's done so.  
  
"We'll head out to the forest." He decides, "Hide the car," I hear a groan from Sark and promise to give him access to enough cash to buy himself another before I return to LA. "And run."  
  
I look at him, it's the most ludicrous plan I've ever heard. "Why?" Harsh tone, almost sardonic and I expect a glare but he turns and, oh my god, he winks. It's a sight to behold and had I looked back I probably would have found my daughter, her handler and her arch nemesis out cold. I just grin at him though and wait for an answer, obviously things have changed since I saved the pair of us from Cuvee.  
  
"I've been looking over Cuvee's files, he's impatient and he has a deal going off in Argentina in thirty two hours. If he isn't there in twenty four, he'll be loosing a very expensive piece of Rambaldi. It's a coincidence, but I figured it might come in useful to know of it." I grin, I know as well as Jack that Cuvee won't even bother to leave men out there over night, especially when he's needed on the other side of the world.  
  
"What if we get a tail? They follow us?" He shrugs, as if saying that he'll deal with it if and when it happens and goes back to concentrating on the road, swerving and changing lanes twice in the blink of an eye. He's speeding, far more than even I would have allowed and the roads are busy, not traffic jam material, but cars are everywhere. Even if we do get a tail, it'll be easy to loose them, especially with this driving. I grin at him again, not letting him see, before turning back to the backseat. Sark's got his arms crossed, still upset about the lost Merc. I smile at him, mocking him for his pet love, "I'll leave you enough money for you to grab yourself a new one."  
  
He looks at me, "How do you plan on doing that with Mr CIA around."  
  
I can see Jack's back tighten from where I sit and I'm inclined to ask him to go against the rules again, I have a weird feeling he would, but I don't, answering simply. "I'll just have to make sure he doesn't hear me. Hmmm?" Sark looks upset but nods anyway and goes back to staring at the cars as we rush past them.  
  
Sydney's eyeing me with something in between suspicion and hope, "Why are you going back to your cell?"  
  
I shrug, not sure she's ready for the real answer, and give her a lie, again, "I had to save you and now we're out numbered."  
  
Jack interrupts me, one hand leaving the wheel as he turns around, forgetting to look at the road. I smile at his daring, "Is that the real reason?"  
  
Ahem, thank you, yes all four tonight, lots of hard work today, been listening to Bond non stop and it keeps me high, along with the coffee, coke, pain killers, morphine, well yeah, anyway. I've noticed that I seem to get just as many reviews if I update two instead of four, so then what would the incentive be for updating al four when I can get the same praise for half, hmmmm? Joking, anyway, please review everything you read, I appreciate it. Thanks again. 


	11. A favor?

Title: Escape  
  
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows  
  
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them  
  
Notes: Enjoy people and read and review This one was a hard one to write.  
  
Author: If you hadn't guessed, it's me, Aeria, Aeryn, Doona, depending where you know me from.  
  
Chapter Eleven  
  
My eyes narrow in suspicion, he seems to be asking me for an answer I could have sworn he wouldn't want to hear. But I'm never one to turn away from a fight simply because I think the opponent is too weak, so I answer, "No, it isn't." He waits, still not looking at the road. "I'm going back to my cell because I promised your father that's what I would do."  
  
"And why does this particular promise hold merit?" he pushed harder and I had to smile, finally he was rising his standards, taking me on without his normal defensive coldness, now it was more of a game than an argument.  
  
I grin, and answer, not bothering to think, knowing that if I stay honest I could put him off, "Because this particular promise was to you." He smiles and for a second I think he's going to bring up past promises I've broken, but he doesn't turning back to continue to drive the car, now facing out the front of the wind shield. I smile at Sydney who's just giving me a look that plainly says she wants to know what I've done with her father and who the man in the front seat is. "Cuvee grabbed us, unarmed just outside the room you were being held in." She nods and I continue, noticing that Jack and Vaughn are listening in as well. "I figured that Cuvee might be dumb enough to fall for my usual tricks again and he was. Only your father was as well." I can see his mouth twitching up out of the corner of my eye. "I eventually just hit him really hard."  
  
Sydney smiles, "And that's when you came and got me?" I nod and she looks down for a moment, giving Vaughn a chance to step in and ask his own question.  
  
"When you say Jack broke you out, what exactly do you mean?" I laugh and I can hear Jack chuckling behind me, I flick my head to the side and he instantly quells the sound, staring ahead at the road, his eyes hard but with obvious amusement in them. "I mean, what did he trick the CIA into letting you out." Obviously Vaughn can't phantom the idea that he might have actually done something completely against the CIA.  
  
I tell him the truth, enjoying the look of both respect and shock that he gives Jack's back, "He shot the CIA's apparently bulletproof glass out and then we just ran for it. He has quite a few connections."  
  
Vaughn still isn't quite up to believing me and seems to be waiting for Jack to turn around again and explaining that I'm kidding. Of course he doesn't so I continue, defending Jack for his actions, "He had little choice. The CIA had no idea where you were and they weren't about to risk going after you. It was either break me out or leave you here to die. I think he chose well."  
  
Sydney nods, "Me too," she pauses looking at her father with confusion before going on, "What exactly does Cuvee want?"  
  
I sigh, I think I know and I figure I should tell them, now or never. "Right now, there's one thing he wants, and that's me." Jack turns, again forgetting the road, to listen. "Two years ago I recovered a book, it was written by Rambaldi and it was, of course forty seven pages long. I memorized it and then burnt it. As far as I know, I'm the only one on the planet with any idea of what was in it."  
  
Jack cuts across me, not sounding as mad as I thought he would, "Why haven't you told us this before?"  
  
I smile sadly, "The things in it, the words that I have in my head are worth billions of dollars; very few people actually even know I know them, but Cuvee does. If I were to even mention this to one person at the CIA, the entire crime world would know in a few hours. If I told you one page of writing, it could easily put both me and whom ever I told into danger. I prefer to keep it to myself."  
  
Sark knows all of this, always had, he was one of very few of my agents that knew. Vaughn looks plain confused and Sydney seems to have drawn a blank. Jack looks back to the road to swerve a slow traveling pig truck before turning back to me. "So now, Cuvee is after you."  
  
I nod, "If he could have me, he would essentially take control of the crime world." Jack nods, looking, for a second indecisive before smiling, weakly.  
  
"You could have told me," he says, almost tenderly.  
  
"I know, but there were too many people watching us." He nods and turns back to the road, turning right and then left, changing lanes and finding his way out onto the main freeway that will take us to a rainforest. I can see it in the distance, a sharp rise, a few cliff faces, a waterfall her and there and everything covered in deep green. I turn back around, I'm interested to see what will happen behind me and I want to think.  
  
The wind hits my face and straight away I grab at the cream head scarf at my feet. Picking it up I put it back in place, along with my sunglasses, my hair is still being thrown around, but my vision is better and I can see what's ahead of us. Jack's still driving, faster than I thought the Mercedes could handle and overtaking every car. He's taken on a completely new look, a hand hanging down on the outside of the car, glasses on the end of his nose and a hand lightly guiding the car via the steering wheel.  
  
I watch a little before voices start up behind me and I focus my attention on them. Sark, typically, starts the conversation, "So, Miss Bristow, how exactly did this sad excuse for an agent manage to get you caught?" I grin, nice opener by Sark, really a great way to get her attention by insulting the love of her life.  
  
Sydney's voice comes back, overlapping Vaughn's as he mutters something under his breath, "Actually, Sark, it was no one's fault. It was simply that they knew we were coming and grabbed us. I'll ask you to refrain from name calling as, after your usual sarcasm, it's the lowest form of insult. I can feel Sark's face falling, but he still manages to come back at her straight away.  
  
"Why so formal, Miss Bristow?" if I turn I'm sure I'd find him grinning at her, normal smug look erected and posed perfectly on his face.  
  
"I'm always formal with the enemy." That shuts him up for a minute, but he soon comes back at her.  
  
"Not to say I am the enemy, but doest his mean your relationship with Agent Vaughn here is informal?" He sounds like a four year old asking one of those obvious answers and I can literally feel Vaughn seething with anger. It's fun to listen to. Stupidly, Sark's also indirectly encouraging the relationship, so it's unlikely that I'll step in any time soon.  
  
I can predict Sydney's answer but she's stopped when Jack turns back around, both hands off the wheel, only a knee keeping it steady, he leans right over the chair, glancing back at the road every now and then. I'm not quite as confident as him and suddenly I know how he must have felt when I did this. I hold the wheel with one hand and keep a steady eye on the traffic that surrounds us.  
  
"Mr. Sark, I never actually agreed to let you go and so, as my wife," he froze as the words left his mouth and I can see Sark opening his mouth out of the corner of my eye. Jack recovers just in time and continues, I'm surprised that he doesn't correct himself, but he just says it again, I could swear he's enjoying the words, "As my wife has already stated, you are outnumbered. So don't push your luck."  
  
He turns back around and grabs the wheel from me, his hand skimming over mine in a way so that I'm not entirely sure if it was touching or not. I stare at him, shocked and silently, involuntarily pleased at this new found Jack. He takes the wheel and I turn and wink at Sydney who's now watching the two of us, Jack and I, like a hawk. She asks me with her eyes what's going on, but I just shrug and turn back to look at the ever nearing rainforest.  
  
Two hours later, during which no one has spoken a word but several very meaningful looks have been passed, Jack pulls off to the side of the road. We're surrounded by lush green rainforest, the kind you see when you look it up in a book and the kind only ever described in stories. There are ferns everywhere, a scattering of yellow and orange flowers under foot and red ones hanging from vines above our heads. I reach up, squirming out of my seat and pick one. It's beautiful. The sound of traffic is still present from the main freeway we turned off a few minutes ago, but the sound of running water and a waterfall are the prevailing sounds.  
  
Jack looks at me and now, somehow knowing exactly what he's asking. He revs the car a few times before running it head first off the road and down a narrow beaten track, after a few minutes, he turns right and weaves a few meters in, coming to a stop when faced with a steep incline, covered in trees and lichen. I grin and pull myself up out of the car as my door is blocked by a tree. It's almost over.  
  
The remaining four join me on my side of the car, Sark looking very upset as he runs a finger along the side of the car, three deep scratches issued along the once immaculate paint job. He looks at me, "I want the new one to have black interior."  
  
Coming from anyone else, I would have taken it as a joke, but he's serious. None the less, I laugh out loud before turning to face the way the car was headed. Up the steep incline. Suddenly I wish I'd brought a longer pair of pants. I scramble up first, feeling a helping, steadying hand on my waist my first thought is Jack, but when I look back, I am, though I won't admit it when questioned, dismayed to find Sark grinning at me, obviously aware off my thoughts. I glare at him and continue to climb, grabbing at the brown roots that are sticking out of the ground.  
  
Jack's voice carries itself up to me a few minutes later, "How the hell are you managing in those shoes?" His breath is labored as I'm sure is everyone's, min included. But he sounds close.  
  
I pause a minute, trying to grab an extra breath and yell down, "Would you believe that it was part of my course with the KGB?" I can feel him grinning and when he laughs I almost slip and fall. It's a shocking sound, lovely and smooth, but so unlike what I've come to know of the man in the past four months. I can't help but grin and keep climbing. I can feel the ground leveling out beneath my feet and eventually I'm walking upright, Sydney beside me with the three men behind.  
  
She smiles at me, obviously her trust growing, but looks away as I look up to meet her gaze. I smile at her, sadly, I suppose and keep walking, head down, the mud pulling the heels into the ground and making walking on flat ground just as hard as the incline. I sigh and look at her, opening my mouth before I can stop myself, "Sydney, I want to ask you a favor."  
  
Well, this one is also coming to a close, but don't worry, one more major cliffhanger coming your way. Read and review people. 


	12. Smile like that

Title: Escape  
  
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows  
  
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them  
  
Notes: Enjoy people and read and review. Not the big cliff hanger yet, that's the next chapter, this one has only three, maybe four chapters left, so it's almost gone as well. Enjoy it while it's here and please of please review for more. Ahem, okay?  
  
Author: If you hadn't guessed, it's me, Aeria, Aeryn, Doona, depending where you know me from.  
  
Chapter Twelve  
  
She looks back at me, blushing because she knows to say yes would be to betray the confidence people have in her, and yet, I sense she wants to accept, so I hurry on, "When we get back, to LA, when I'm back in my cell. Could you come by every now and then." Only once I've said it do I realize just how vulnerable it makes me feel, I can feel everyone staring at me, in particular Jack, and there is nothing I can do. I wait for answer and she doesn't give it immediately.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
I glance at Jack as we keep walking, a bird's call ringing out around us. He doesn't look mad, not at all, he's watching me, looking rather intrigued, rather interested in our exchange so I answer her, "Just to talk. I don't mind what about, I don't mind if it's monitored. But, I want to know you." She's looking at me, eyes narrowed as she tries to work out my thoughts.  
  
Of course there is no way for her to read me, it's my job to make sure no one can read me. She looks to her father and I wonder what he's telling her to do, but then she opens her mouth, "I think I'd enjoy that."  
  
I smile and put my head down, walking on; moving towards what I know is water. I can hear it in the distance. I glance at my watch, seeing the time and wondering how long we will have to hide form Cuvee, how long he will pursue us. I keep walking, everyone is behind me and the path is hard and difficult to follow, branches poking out scratch at my bare legs and arms. The heels are sinking low into the mud of the rainforest, making it twice as hard to lift my feet, I'd complain, but there's nothing that it would do, so I keep going.  
  
The water is getting louder, heavier and I realize it is not just the sound of a running stream or rapids, but a waterfall, not huge and rushing but one of the more beautiful ones. No one speaks a word when we break through and find ourselves on a tiny plateau. Little ferns poke out from between black pebbles as the water rushes past. It's shallow, perhaps only up to the middle of my claves and there will no trouble crossing it. I walk into the edge, the cold water washing over the flash of my feet, I look around, bending over to wave a hand in the water.  
  
Tentatively I take a sip, it tastes fine and I nod, everyone else is soon at the edge taking a well deserved drink, washing their faces, Sark with an eye on Sydney, Vaughn alongside him and Jack just watching all of us. I smile weakly at him and he nods back. Not a smile, but not a scowl, it is encouraging. To my right, in the distance I can see where the water plunges over the edge, I can see birds flying in and out of view as they fly below the horizon, I grin and know that that is where I need to go.  
  
I tell the others, Sark moving to stand beside me, "We should walk with the water to the falls." Jack nods and I continue, "It'll cover our tracks, just in case and we'll be able to work out just where we are form the height." Everyone else murmurs agreement, no one shows they think it's a bad idea so we start off, I take m heels off, careful not to activate the C4 and carry them at my side, watching the water trail around my feet, delirious at the freedom it freely expresses.  
  
The waterfall, by my calculations is a while away, perhaps twenty minutes at the rate we're walking. The water doesn't speed up much and it remains shallow, we walk, the five of us scattered up and down the edge, me slowly moving further and in until I'm wading with it up to my knees, it's deeper here than I'd expected. Sark starts conversation, "Irina, what exactly are you going to do with me?" My brow furrows, I hadn't thought of that.  
  
Jack is watching me again, I can feel his eyes on my back so I don't make a show not knowing, instead I just turn to him and ask, "What kind of a deal can you cut him?" I can't believe I'm asking him, giving this control, Sydney and Vaughn are shocked too, jack's mouth hangs open for a few seconds before he rights himself.  
  
Sark has no problem in voicing his shock, "You're not asking him?"  
  
Jack cuts me off, "She is," I smirk at the water as it runs past ahead of me. "While I don't think the CIA will be impressed to find out I had anything to do with you, I do plan on telling them." I raise an eyebrow, but feel there is more, "But I figure that you are free to leave us and do what you will whenever you please. Escape..." he leaves the word hanging in the air, I can see Vaughn debating with himself just how he feels about this arrangement but he obviously remembers that Sark helped to save him.  
  
I nod graciously at Jack, "Thank you." Sark glares at me and I have to laugh. This only causes Jack to slip his head around to stare at me, the sound still unsettles him and I apologize quickly, looking down and grinning at the water as I realize that while it isn't speeding up, it's not rising slowly.  
  
Jack talks again, "They're not going to be impressed when I get back." I grin harder; he's only now realizing what he's done.  
  
"I'd vouch it was for a noble cause, but I don't think that would help, not coming from me," he smiles at me and I grin back, I flick my head in time to see Sydney smiling to herself as well.  
  
The waters quickly rising and everyone else is slowly moving away from me, towards the edge as it rises to mid thigh and I have to push myself to keep up. I love the feeling, it delights me, I've always had a fascination with water and I know this is my last chance with freedom so I take it, not caring what they thing, not caring if this gets me into trouble, I throw my heels at the bank, towards Sark who catches them clumsily, getting his pants wet in the process, "What the hell do you think you're doing, they're full of C4."  
  
I grin and dive under, the top soaking through and the denim sticking to my legs, under the water, I can see everything, it's incredibly clear and perfect, I surface only for air, finding myself about five meters ahead of them, I turn wading and conscience that my top is suddenly more sheer than I would like. I grin at them, diving under again; admiring the green ferns from underwater and turned to swim looking up, obscured pictures of the four of them floating down. I come up, still in front despite trying to slow down.  
  
"Slow down," gruff and angry from Sark though I don't take him seriously. I stand in the water, emerging until it's up to my hips, the material clinging to me and I see Jack looking at me in a way I hadn't expected anyone to ever look at me again, not unless they were on my side and especially not this man, the one man I desperately hoped would look at me like that.  
  
I answer Sark, "Why?"  
  
He just glares at me, "Because I don't feel like running."  
  
Jack grins, I could swear that he knows what I'm about to say, "Then swim." I grin up, out of the water at Sark, he scowls back, looking around him.  
  
Sydney and Vaughn are back a little, her shoes are off too, Vaughn holding onto her hand in a way certainly against protocol, they're oblivious to us and are just walking along happily. One look at Jack shows that he's on my side; Sark gives an exasperated sigh, "Slow down."  
  
I rise an eyebrow and duck back under, pelting ahead under the water, kicking hard and dolphining through until I need air. I surface again and look around, they're miles back. I see Sark raise his hands to his mouth to shout, "You a real infuriating woman, Irina, you know that."  
  
I grin and plunge back under, curving through the water back to them, Jack smiles at me again, the trust between us building and I see Sydney grinning too. Overall this mission has accomplished more than I could have ever imagined. I smile, ducking back under and continue swimming, again thinking over what I've seen, what I've accomplished in the past few days and in a few minutes time I can feel the water speeding up and I have to get out.  
  
I wander out of the water and Jack steers me, with his hands, heaven forbid, and Vaughn and Sark forbid too, judging by their looks, to stand beside him. He keeps glimpsing up at me, his eyes averting back down to the ground whenever I flicker mine up. It's strange, whatever it is, it's been building and now here it is. He looks up again and I don't look up with him, I don't startle him into looking down with my eyes, instead I use my voice, laughing at the edges, "What?"  
  
He stares for a moment before answering, looking behind him to see Vaughn and Sydney a while behind and Sark dawdling in the distance, still, for some reason sulking. "Will you use it to your advantage if I told you?" his voice is pure, more than it should be, but it's smooth and nice at the same time.  
  
I grin at him, catching his eye this time, "Probably."  
  
He looks back down and shakes his head, still smiling, I think, "I thought you'd day that." He takes a breath and I can feel something big coming, "I'll tell you anyway," a pause, "I'm falling for you again."  
  
I'm shocked, that was what I expected but still, it's an incredible feeling, I test him, "How so?"  
  
He just grins at me, "Don't push it Irina. At this rate when we get back, I'm going to be put into prison."  
  
"With me?" I interrupt.  
  
He grins, properly this time and I find it contagious, "No, I can't explain right now, I just want you to know."  
  
I wait for a moment, still walking, letting my feet skim the water to my right as I step from rock to rock, the water speeding, I see we're almost there. "Me too." His head flicks up but refuse to comment, he can take it however he wants.  
  
"You know this doesn't change anything." God knows why he asks it like a question.  
  
I just simply nod. We walk, his eyes looking at the ground, I'm looking ahead so I'm the first one to sense it.  
  
It's tiny, I shouldn't hear it, but I do, it's a gun, I can hear someone, somewhere with a gun. I turn, on edge, no one's behind us and everyone is looking at me as though I'm insane, I keep looking around, walking backwards, there's definitely no one behind us so I turn back around and for a moment I think my ears must be playing with me, but then we reach the end of the river and I can see down to where twenty or thirty men at least are staring up at us, Cuvee among them, all the guns aimed up at us hopelessly. They must be forty meters below us but they have a helicopter, parked not far back in a clearing and I see we are trapped immediately.  
  
I know this had so many similarities to the show and my other fics, but I just, well, bad bloody luck, deal with it. Kidding! ;) Read and Review please, it's what keeps me going. 


	13. Drops

Chapter Thirteen  
  
They are spread out, all over the place, we'll need more C4 than what I have, but still I can nock at least half of them out if I throw the shoe in the right direction. I want to scream at how annoying this is, how frustrating, just when it was all working, it had to, typically, fall apart. Sark's noticed my pause first and is holding the other three out of sight, I think perhaps I could move backwards and disappear, but Cuvee's voice drifts up the moment the thought has started. "Irina..."  
  
He leaves it hanging and I can see, out of the corner of my eye, Jack standing completely shocked and silent. I look down at him, trying to bluff out of this, "What do you want Cuvee?" I must be imagining things if I think I can see the hatred, the madness that is in his eyes, but I still know it is there and I register it, knowing it is an advantage.  
  
His voice blares back up, thirty guns or more trained on me, Jack is still behind me, I can tell he wants to help, wants to save me, but I know he can't. "We all know what I want Irina, all I want is you. And not just so that I can give you a long torturous death, I know what is inside that head of yours," I see him tap his own head, he's obviously on the edge. I hope he makes a mistake, I hope he makes a mistake I can use and already I can see many ways in which I can manipulate this to my own use. His voice comes up again, "Irina, all I want is you, stand right there and I'll send someone up to get you. Don't dream of trying to run. I know who you have up there with you. If you co-operate, I'll let them live," that's a lie, I can tell. "Run, I'll kill them."  
  
I know now, that there is dwindling hope for me, all of my plans are gone, he knows too much, he will kill them all; my most trusted friend, my daughter's one true love and her, not to mention my own husband. I grimace as I see images of him gunning them down with machine guns and I know that my aim is now to save them, let them live. I bite my lip, I feel Jack at my side and wish I could feel him there, wish he'd grab my hand, but he doesn't, e just glares down below us.  
  
Cuvee again, "Oh and now your husband rears his ugly head, Irina, don't be stupid, you could have me." He sounds delirious, I only now realize it but he has the voice of a man on the edge, a man who has drunk too much and I know that there is another hole for my to widen.  
  
I stare down, "Cuvee," I pause; I can anger him or flatter him, either way I have a chance at weakening him, pulling at the holes. I figure anger will work better as it is the truth, "You will never have me." I can almost smell the rage and I hesitate, I've seen what he does to people who upset him. Now Jack grabs my hand, tight, surreal but warm and nice, encouraging and a force most people can't find in any kind of drug, I speak again, "You don't deserve me."  
  
He growls, the stamina he's trying to execute false but still echoing up to us, "Irina..."  
  
I shake my head, hair flying wildly, I let my eyes flicker to Sark and my plan furthers, all I need is to be sure, "Cuvee..." My voice is sweet and I think the change rips through him instead of arousing suspicion. "Let me say goodbye, then I shall put up no fight."  
  
"No, we don't have time." I grin in triumph, so does Sark, I think; Vaughn and Sydney are standing further back, watching us. He has no time, I need to win this and I continue, needing but only a few seconds, "Just a moment. Just to make sure they remember me."  
  
He's now weary, I'm making it too obvious, and yet he agrees, "Sixty seconds, then I'm sending a chopper up." I nod and turn.  
  
I take a step out of his sight but Sark remains where he is, just to be sure he sends no one up to check. "I want you to run as far and as fast as you can away." Their brows crease, all of them and I expect to feel tears. "Listen, no matter what, you have to move, fast, I don't want you doing anything stupid." I pause but they are still staring at me.  
  
Cuvee's voice interrupts mine, "Thirty seconds," I believe he must think such good byes are torture. They are.  
  
"Promise me."  
  
Jack nods but starts quickly, I hate having to listen; "Where are you going? Are you going with him?"  
  
I shake my head, "If he comes up here, he'll kill you all."  
  
Jack shakes his head, "So what?"  
  
Sark still has no idea and I'm thankful he has none. I gulp, "Just run and Sydney, Vaughn, it is love." There brows crease and they look away from each other, they don't realize what is about to happen either, but Jack, his minds is quick and I can see him fitting it in.  
  
"Sark, I need those shoes." He hands them to me wordlessly and I return to the edge, looking down I still feel no tears, I 'm surprised. "Cuvee, I'm not coming."  
  
Pure rage, it's what I expected from him and yet still, it shocks, "What do you mean?" It's yelled louder than I thought, my voice seems so meek compared, but still I push on.  
  
"Catch," I throw one shoe, hard and fast and as straight as I can throw. It lands dead centre, better than I'd hoped but doesn't go off. Behind my back I cross my fingers, hoping beyond hope that this works, the seconds drip by and then it happens. Cuvee's men have moved towards it, some of them coming into range when beforehand it wouldn't have hit them. I grin, the explosion is big, big enough to take out at least half the men. I throw the other one as quickly as I can and it lands, away from Cuvee but when the orange energy or the fire begins I've taken out all but two agents and Cuvee. It worked.  
  
He laughs and I grin, "Irina, killing all but three will not work, a helicopter will be up in a moment to get you." I know that though, that's where he's underestimated the opposition and overestimated his own mind. As long as he has the man power to get the chopper up here, we're all dead, me probably captured and interrogated for weeks or months. But this is where I can pull this off; this is where my plan comes in. I glance behind me, still none of them know and I wonder whether to tell them now or wait until I actually do it.  
  
I turn, knowing if I tell them, they won't let me, they'll try to find another way out and we will all be dead anyway. One last glance because I know I'm going straight to hell. I want to remember them, forever, now that my forever is about to end. Sark is staring, confused but slightly proud of him shoes, I grin at him and still fell no tears. Sydney has, at some point, grabbed Vaughn's hand and they're both watching me, Sydney like I was one of those brilliant mothers. I know I'm not, but she, at this very moment, sees me like that and still I feel no tears. And then Jack, he's still thinking, ignoring me because he knows something big is about to happen. I wish he would look up, so I can remember his face properly, but there's no way to ask him. I nod and turn back around.  
  
I glare down at Cuvee, cursing him for ruining me, for bringing me into the KGB, for everything between then and now and for this, for doing this to me. I hate him, I really do. I know I wan to look back, to see them one last time, but I've run out of time, this is it, I have to move now. One of Cuvee's men is half way to the chopper, running as fast as he can and Cuvee is simply watching me, waiting for me to run. He still doesn't know.  
  
I take a breath, my last real one and move closer to the edge, edging into the water where it rushes past my feet and over, it isn't a fast waterfall, I can stand in the middle and be in no danger of being pushed over by the water. It isn't much more than a heavy trickle down the rock face but below that there is a deep pool, shrouded in weeping willows and vines and it connects to a river. I wish Cuvee would fall in and kill himself, but he doesn't. I take another step, then two more, getting closer to the middle.  
  
I stop, the water is lapping at my knees, it isn't deep here and it still isn't dangerous. For a moment I wish it was, that I didn't have to do this. Still no tears come, still I don't look back. "Irina," it's Cuvee's voice, "I'm going to murder your family and then I'm going to keep you alive." The stupid bastard still doesn't realize, neither does Sark or Vaughn or Sydney. But suddenly I feel Jack's arm around my waist, holding me too tight to imagine, his breath hot on my ear.  
  
I turn and look at him, I can tell in a second that he knows what I'm about to do, the look of hurt, the look of fear is fresh on his face and he shakes his head, "What are you doing?" He still has to ask so I explain all the while knowing I don't have time.  
  
"Jack, if I don't they're going to come up here and kill us, if I let him take me, he'll still kill all of us. If I jump," the word is whispered, I can't bear the others to hear, they're still in the dark, watching with curious amazement, "He will look for me, and he won't find me. You have to run."  
  
"No," so defiant, so unbelieving, I can't believe this is happening, in my entire plan, this was never supposed to happen. He stares at me, "No, I won't let you."  
  
"There is no other way," I have to tell him, make sure he knows and he does, I can see it in his eyes, he knows I have to go, "I'm sorry." I pour it all into those words, I never dream that he'll understand what I mean, just what I feel, but I want him to and I try, those two little words, so simple, so sad.  
  
But he does, this is my one last wish, "I'm sorry too." It's not anger or confusion, it's just sadness. And then he kisses me, the greatest way to go would have to be in his arms, I can hear Cuvee screaming below us, having realized the plan. I can hear Sydney crying as she makes her way through the water, her feet dragging, she doesn't have time. But it is all drowned out by his lips on mine.  
  
His hands up and down my back, his hands in my hair, on my face, all over me, exploring me for the first time in forever and the last. And his lips so soft, so gentle, so incredibly Jack that I don't want to let go. His tongue exploring my own mouth, dueling with my own for the last time. The last time. And now the tears come. I can feel them hot and wet down my face, pouring, streaming over my cheeks onto his face, his hands.  
  
I have no time left, I can hear the chopper lifting off, I cannot give them a chance, I have to go now. Sydney's still meters away, there is no time. I try to remember one more time exactly how this feels, what true bliss is and then I push away, quickly and sure of myself, hating having to do this, but determined. I feel him trying to hold on and struggle harder, I break free and I find it surprisingly cold. I swallow and look back again, I promised I wouldn't, but I do.  
  
Out of the corner of my eye I see the chopper, just above ground but ready to swoop on us and I jump.  
  
Bugger me, best thing I ever wrote, the way to finish a story I'd say. Yes this is it, that's the end, please review, I really want to know what you think, it's important to me. Hope you enjoyed it. Please read this and review, I'm desperate. 


	14. Reminiscence

Well for those of you who liked that ending, sorry, I was always intent of doing more, I just wanted to make it more dramatic, still don't get your hopes up, there are no guarantees of life. Sorry if you think it was mean of me, I just wanted to see if I should or should not stop there, if your decision had been to stop there I would have written the end and just not published it but the majority of you want more so here it is.  
  
Chapter Fourteen  
  
She jumped, I don't believe this, she actually did it. In my mind and heart I'd always thought, for some stupid reason, that it wasn't going to happen, that I was going to wake up and all of this was going to be wrong. But I don't, I watch as she jumps, Cuvee's screams of anger wringing out below as he realizes the trap. In the background I can hear Sydney crying but I ignore it, trying to gather my thoughts.  
  
How far down is it? Maybe thirty or forty meters. I can't tell where or how she entered the water, but as I rush to edge I can see no broken body on the grass or rocks. I know why she did it. It was the perfect plan, Cuvee has two men down there and he has to leave soon if he wants to get his next Rambaldi device. He won't come up here to kill us, despite the fact that he wants to, because he will use the few men he has to search for her in the inane hope that she's a live. She isn't, that would be fair and the world is unfair.  
  
We have to run; if we run he will forget us. I want to turn and run, but I can't I know that, my feet are plastered to the ground, I can't move, Sydney's still crying and I glimpse Vaughn with his arms around her, her head buried in his chest and my respect grows for the young man.  
  
I look down, the pool of water below is deep, I can't see the bottom and Cuvee's men look unhappy with the idea of swimming down there. Cuvee looks up and I take a step back. She won't die in vain. We have to run, just to get out of his sight, if he sees us when his chopper takes off, he might have enough hatred to come after us. I force my body to turn away, the pain shocking as all my muscles strain against the movement along with my heart, the common sense part of my brain the only thing egging me on, to save our daughter.  
  
"Let's go," my voice is still level, a rasp, but still void of emotion. Sydney stares at me, her gaze at first a glare until she sees the tears and she understands. Sark's sitting, face shocked, on the bank, but he stands up as I walk out of the water. Irina trained him well; he's pushing it all to the back of his mind and turning to run into the cover of the trees. I can't though, for the first time in forever my training fails me and all I can do is walk, stumbling over roots and my mind blank as Sark leads us down the steep slope, the four of us that should be a five, dragging our feet, Sydney still crying though her tears are silent as she grasps at Vaughn's side.  
  
We walk ten minutes before I can hear the helicopter. It's loud and misplaced in the jungle. It swoops above us but I know it can't see us. I listen, stopping in my trek as it moves off, it's unwanted, almost criminal volume, dimming until I can't hear it. I swallow and sit down. I don't know why, I just do, I'm exhausted and I can't really see any use in continuing so why not just sit down.  
  
Sark turns, his face is whiter than usual, this is hitting him hard too, "Jack, we can't wait." I shake my head, I'm being childish.  
  
Sydney turns, still plastered to Vaughn who is tenderly caressing her hair, a sad, shocked look on his face, "Dad we have got to go." Her voice only make s it worse. I can't believe that it should be so wrong. I'm one of the good guys, and yet I can never be happy. It's stupid, a stupidly wrong system, I lose, every time. Even now, the only way Irina could ever make me see, force me to acknowledge that I still love her, that she might not be here with an ulterior motive of evil, the only way I could see it was for her to jump. It's stupid and it's unfair.  
  
"No," my voice is still a rasp, she looks about to object, through her tears, "No."  
  
"Please, dad, we have to go." Her voice is so like her mother's, so pure and perfect even now in the throws of loss and deprivation. "Dad, we can't stay here."  
  
I shake my head, burying my head is my hands; I have no idea what I want. Vaughn speaks up, first thing he's said, "Jack, we really can't just stay here."  
  
I'm shocked to find his voice is slightly strained as well, "You three go ahead. Return to LA. Sark do what you please."  
  
Sydney cuts across me, harsh and pulling away from Vaughn, "I am not just going to leave you here."  
  
I look at her, she even has her mother's anger, I grin slightly, causing her to look confused, "I want to go back." I tell her, so simply put it shocks me.  
  
"Why?" she asks.  
  
"I don't know," the answer is too honest for me, "I just do." Sydney watches me for a while, just staring the tears welling up and her chest heaving as she fights the sobs off.  
  
"Then I'm coming with you," she tells me and turns in the direction in which the pool lays. "And don't try to stop me," she walks, Vaughn moving like her shadow, ever present and Sark trailing her, his head down as he shakes it and mumbles to himself. I cringe, I have almost taken a liking to him, something Irina no doubt saw coming. I swallow and heave myself up, my entire body twice as heavy as I remember it ever being.  
  
We walk in silence, my entire being reeking with regret, knowing in sureness that I never would have given in to a kiss else wise, but whishing there was a way. I can see the pool through the trees and the niggling little thought that she might be alive, the thought that will kill me as in my mind I know she couldn't be surfaces. Rearing it's ugly head at me and telling me there is hope when there is nothing.  
  
The pool brings back memories of Irina and not just far off images of our marriage, of Laura, but of her, the real her what I've come to know of her since she turned herself into the CIA.I remember the pain she caused me and I'm actually wishing I could have it again, just for a split second, I remember all our meetings, both face's masked with indifference or amusement when underneath we both knew what the other was thinking. She'd the only woman that can...could read me like that.  
  
My first and last physical fight with her only hours before, her getting the better of me and somehow capturing my hatred which was essentially love and using it against me, I smile as I keep walking. She was at least my equal, I hadn't expected her to be, but she was almost more. Her lisp, I will never forget them but then I'll never be able to quite remember every detail because that would be fair and I'd don't get anything fair, all I get is unfair.  
  
We're nearing the water now, the surface is calm and pure, reflecting the sky and the overhanging willows in perfection, teasing me with its peacefulness when it's just finished swallowing up my wife. I don't know why but the tranquility brings back my thoughts as I realized Sark was there and that she had betrayed me. I could have sworn it was hate, I would have told anyone else that I hated her, but then, now I am not so naïve, I know it was simply passion that switched back and forth between the two extremes of hate and love of its own accord.  
  
The smug grin that both Sark and Irina had been wearing, the shock that must have crossed my face only spurring her on. And then I trusted her again as it turned out she had not betrayed, she was risking her right hand man to help. It looked like she had betrayed me again with Cuvee, I had been stupid to not realize that now that it was the third time she was apparently betraying me there was a good chance she was not, but I hadn't.  
  
Three strikes and I'm out.  
  
Perhaps fate had given me time to work it out, to say to myself that there was a possibility, but I hadn't and now it was too late. I have few memories of her, it's stupid really, I spent forever thinking about her but all my memories are either old or of hatred. There are few of times when I have been able to admire her openly, to like her, to see her properly without being scared of being seen myself.  
  
That morning, this morning, though it feels like an eternity ago, when she had been swimming in the pool. That had been one of those times. Her body was so perfect, so lithe in the water, she swam like a professional, diving in and out of the water, weaving and plunging with ease. I swallow, water almost killed Sydney's love and now it has taken mine. That thought comes back to me, the glimmer that she made it, diving perfectly and just going in and out of the water.  
  
But I know that couldn't be the case. For two reasons, the fall is too far, the pool probably too shallow and small and because that would be fair, to reward years of work and pain with one simple wish would be fair and the universe isn't fair.  
  
It ell myself that every time I wake up and every time I go to bed, every time Sydney is late and there's the possibility that she is dead, every time something goes wrong or I feel like giving up. I remind myself that it's always going to be unfair and to give up would be to give in and that would be fair to them, fate, the universe, destiny, God, whatever. I will not return the favor. I glance over at Sydney she has her head down and is still walking alongside Vaughn, her feet look as heavy as mine and it's obvious she doesn't want to come with me to the pool. Sark is ahead a little, his head high if only to provide a façade that most could see through.  
  
I crack my jaw and keep walking wondering, we emerge from the trees and I can see up to where I was standing less than an hour before, no one is left around, Cuvee has fled, without Irina, I can tell as there are bullet ricochets on the rock face where he has taken his anger out. It's now that I notice the rock curves in and I wonder how lucky we were not to have the entire top of the waterfall collapse with all of us on it. The water falls freely almost, the rock grabbing at it with gravity but getting little water. Moss and lichen is everywhere, the willows providing a lovely look to the place; seems unfair, again.  
  
I wander alone to the edge of the water and look up, even from down here the fall is too long, at least forty meters. I grin, when I was younger, married and happier, I used to take my wife and daughter to the carnivals, there was always a man who would jump off a spring board, high in the air and dive into a tank of water. He used to be my favourite but even his height is not as high as that which Irina has jumped from and had she any clue as to a chance of her living, she wouldn't have said goodbye. It is only when faced by certain death that we reveal things, not uncertain death.  
  
The pool is deep but amazingly clear, I can see to what I believe is the white rock bottom. I let my gaze wander slowly from where the trickle of water is falling to join the rest to the edge, my eyes circling in checking every spare centimeter for her body.  
  
I hope you liked it, I'm not sure if it works, but there is more to come, just depends on reviews. 


	15. False Hopes and Curtain Falls

Chapter Fifteen  
  
He ended up hunched over, knees scrapping the rock near the edge as he searched, over and over again, as much of the pool as he could see; the willows covering small patches which he would check after he finished this round. Hope was a killer, he knew that, to hope for anything, to be expect anything but the absolute worst was to condemn oneself to numerous let downs and he hadn't fallen victim to it until now. It was, in his mind impossible for Irina to have survived, she wasn't a professional diver and she would have been unable to see where she was going, probably plunging head first into rock.  
  
He gulped, "What if Cuvee took her?" he hadn't meant to say it out loud but he had.  
  
Sark walked over to him, still with an incredible façade of coolness and calm, "Jack, forget it, she's dead. I know her, she couldn't have survived unless she entered dead centre and unless she managed to watch where she was going, I doubt that would have been possible in the first place." He sighed and put his hands on his hips, watching the man who he had come to admire.  
  
Jack realized even his words were portraying the false hope he didn't want to have. "What if he took her body," he had to bite his lip then, just to stop whatever emotion was rising.  
  
Sydney answered and her angered, upset tone only worsened the situation, "You think he would?" She paused and no one answered, "Who am I kidding, of course he would." And she broke down again, Vaughn catching her, looking up at Jack who looked half the man he had an hour ago. Both faces were steely but they spoke not a word at all, Jack walking off for the other side of the pool, disappearing under the first of three willows that shrouded the water with green mystery.  
  
Sark followed him, unsure of where this left him; he'd lost the person most important to him, the only person who had any idea, now he was alone. It didn't matter though, look at what she had done, he could only aspire to be like her. He would miss her, not that he planned on admitting it, but she had, indeed grown to be like a mother to him. He shook his head, this wasn't the place to think, this was when he had to hold it together, to manage to throw it all to the back of his mind and ignore it until he was alone and safe, away from ridicule. He raised his hands to move the vines of the tree, stepping through onto the soft and slippery moss.  
  
She'd found him when he was sixteen, a man from a broken family, running around Britain living as he pleased. But, she had told him, he was different because he didn't beg, he lived in the standards he wanted, taking what he wished and always, always getting away with it. He cashed bad checks, stole when he saw something people considered unable to be bought, bought himself companions and when these people bored him he tried to find his own true friends. He had run ins with the law but always escaped, tricking his way out of it.  
  
He remembered Irina saying that it was his mind that attracted her to him, and he, in his youth, having thought they were to be lovers. Now, he knew, that this was what they were supposed to have had, the weird bond between criminals when there is complete trust coming and going with others but always remaining with him.  
  
He stopped as he saw Jack again, realizing he had once again freely chosen to reminisce. He shut his mind down and moved to the edge of the water, peering in to the depths that he could no longer see, what with the green reflection of the leaves that surrounded and covered them. There was nothing, not ever tinges of blood in the water, but then, there wouldn't be. Of all the ways she would go, this had always been the way he'd expected, with complete honour, proving things she could prove no other way. He let his eyes wander over to Jack who was trailing his fingers in the water, clearly not aware of his watchful gaze. He looked sad, but then, Sark had always expected that. He shook his head; he needed to get this over with as soon as possible.  
  
Outside, Sydney and Vaughn had taken a seat on the grass beside the pool; Vaughn was seriously looking to the ground while Sydney's eyes kept sweeping up and down the rock ace, her eyes alert and thinking as she saw the rock curving in and the trickle of water landing a meter in from the pool. It was horrible for her to say the least, to be back here so soon, to see exactly what had happened and how, she recalled in flashes her mother jumping after such a bittersweet goodbye to all of them, she just hurled herself over, backwards and arching in the air as she disappeared over.  
  
She leaned against Vaughn and waited for her father to return, she hadn't seen him like this since the last time she'd died. And now it was worse, she thought, instead of shutting down, he was turning on, becoming human just so he could experience the remorse, the misery and the grief that was now inevitable in light of what she had given up.  
  
She swallowed and continued to let her eyes sweep up and down the rock face, hoping that Jack would hurry up and come back out. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed and die. Finally she understood what the loss of Laura might have done to her father, the knowledge of the lies, the knowledge that she'll never be seen again, the knowledge of that kind of loss. Sydney really, truly wanted to shut down. But not forever, thanks to her mother, she had people to hold on to, her father and Vaughn to begin with and victory over SD-6.  
  
She knew she was grasping at straws, but she wanted this to all end with at least some happiness.  
  
Jack pushed through the second curtain of willow vines and branches, making his way along the pool edge and watching for any movement. Already he'd been startled twice, causing his entire body to flex, but both times it had been a tiny fish jumping in and out of the water. He sighed, the loss eating away from him slowly but surely as he looked at the water, bending over and looking, dipping his hands every now and then to catch the cooling water that had taken her. Still, he found nothing and the chilling concept that Cuvee might have her body became more and more real.  
  
He sat down, there was another curtain to his right, but right now he wanted to think, it was what he should have done straight away, sat down and thought, so he did. The moss was slick beneath him and probably staining the clothing with green, but he didn't care, he bowed his head, resting his forehead on his fingertips and worked at it in his mind, starting with the most distant, irrelevant things he had to work on.  
  
First there was the matter of Sark, there was little he could do with him and while it was his duty as an American to return him to America, he wasn't going to go back on his last agreement with Irina; he would let him go and do whatever it was he wanted to do. It wasn't as if he could possibly be in any more trouble, but like that mattered. Sydney was in trouble now as well, he'd broken their mother out and now that it was going to be said that he had betrayed the CIA his daughter was going to have to be investigated as well, no matter that she had been missing at the time of the break out, in the possession of Gerard Cuvee.  
  
Then there was agent Vaughn, he would be added as an accessory and investigated, the facts would eventually rise, the fact that Irina had died as she had and that Sark was now a free man again would be found out via interrogations that, while not cruel could fool the mind, and then, Sydney and Vaughn would be found lying, in charges like treason and accused of letting Sark go. Life was ruined and he had thought it bad when she had been around.  
  
It was than, as he sat on the moss that Sydney ran in, feet slipping on the moss, Vaughn and Sark on her heels as they all tried to navigate the slick slopes of rock. She stopped beside Jack, staring at him a moment, still amazed that he should break so quickly and easily, she took a breath, "She dived of backwards." It was almost an act of defiance, but she seemed hopeful and happy about it.  
  
Jack just shook his head, "What?" he looked for more details.  
  
"I've been thinking, when she jumped, she threw herself over backwards and bent over backwards in the air, she dived in..." she waited for the look of realization to cross her father's face but it didn't, "I think she would have been able to see where she was going and hit dead centre of the pool."  
  
Jack swallowed, regaining his hardened face in an instant, "Sydney, it that was true, Cuvee would have seen her when she surfaced and we wouldn't have heard him screaming. She is dead, there's nothing we can do about it."  
  
She shook her head, a tear falling, "Then why are we hear?" she spat out.  
  
He breathed out slowly through his nose, "I don't know. We should go." He stood up and readied to leave, knowing this was the end, that he could kill the hope right now and give up, save himself and his daughter the pain of finding the body after another half hour's searching, but he couldn't do it, something forced him to stay still and he hated that, it was entirely unfair, again, but he couldn't leave, not without looking around a little longer, until this begging within him ceased and he could move away. Silently, he knew there was a chance that would be never.  
  
Sydney didn't realize and alongside Sark and Vaughn she began to move to the curtain she'd entered through, finding the whole area enchanting and depressing at the same time, none of them saw him slip through the opposite willow curtain.  
  
A slight gasp drew them back. Jack found himself faced with the body, white and still wrinkled with water and her feet swamped in the water as she lay on the rock, an arm across her face. This surprised him as it meant she hadn't washed up after knocking herself unconscious. He saw the blood stains across her stomach, steeping through and he leaned forward, careful not to touch the red streaked skin. He lifted the black cloth, sheer now with water and clinging to her, he pulled it back and found thousands of tiny cuts running up and down her body, covering her abdomen and every inch of skin the dipped between her ribs. His brow creased and his head cocked as he looked to shoulders where more lines, all heading int eh same direction, from her head to her toes, ran, seeing hot blood little by little.  
  
Sydney entered behind him, covering her eyes and burying her head in Vaughn's chest as she sobbed again, Jack just spoke quickly, "Shhh, wait." And he thought, this was not the time to ask himself questions, his head was a mess, his emotions in the way, but there were several things wrong with this body. For starters, he realized it was bleeding, his wife was bleeding and he knew people didn't bleed after death because the heart stopped pumping, he ran his hands over the wounds on her shoulder, the buts still deep but the skin amazingly smooth and sure enough where he wiped the blood away, a little more came out, not quickly, but enough to arouse him mind to register she was still warm.  
  
For a second he had himself convinced that this was all some cruel trick, that she had been alive minutes before and he'd lost her because he had convinced himself she was dead, and then he realized he was doing it again, convincing himself she was dead, not ready to be hurt again, but he wanted to be positive so he risked it.  
  
Hmmmm? Still no promises of life, I could turn this into a huge tragic ending, have her dead and him just mad etc etc etc, anyways, reviews were great, that's why you suddenly have a heap more of reading to do, ;) Have fun. 


	16. Blood, breath and chestfalls

Chapter Sixteen.  
  
He let his hands touch at her neck, gingerly and his teeth clenched, but he did it. Sydney watching him with angry tears, still blind to the possibility that he was suffering the false hope that she was. Vaughn just stood back, forgetting it was his job to hold Sydney and, being possibly the most detached, seeing the final sign he needed. He nudged Sark who was standing arm's crossed and eyes elsewhere.  
  
Sark glared at him and Vaughn glared back, but only for moment before pointedly turning his gaze back to Irina, causing Sark to look as well. He swallowed and stared at the body, not seeing what Vaughn could see until he was told, Vaughn's voice hushed and hesitant, but unable to keep quiet when he was so sure he was right. "Jack," all eyes swung to him, his voice, no matter how soft, splitting away the serenity and calm that the place had to itself. He waited, staring at them, scared to be wrong. "Jack, I think she's breathing."  
  
Vaughn's POV  
  
It sounds so stupid now that I've said it, so clumsy and wrong. What if I am wrong, what if it is some horrible trick that fate is playing on us all. I can see Sydney's eyes brimming again, no longed sad but angry that I should say something so preposterous, but she's turning to look at her, Irina, the women who created, in some way, every piece of pain in my life and at the same time Sydney, the only goodness there is left on the earth.  
  
I could have sworn I saw her chest rising and then falling a few seconds ago, but now, I cannot be sure, it's covered in so many long cuts, from where I can't be sure, but what if she was a live? Where would that leave us? I know it is selfish to think like this, but if she's a live everything changes again. We were all so positive she was dead. Except Jack.  
  
He wanted to come back and find her body, he was acting like a man possessed and I suppose now that he felt like he had unfinished business. He's bending over her now, the only movement but the gentle lapping of the water at her feet. She looks so much like Sydney that it's scary. And I have to admire her for what she's done, even if she did kill my father and I never forgive her for that, she's saved me and Sydney numerous times. She's acted good and then she threw herself off the cliff, there was no way she could have been hoping to live, the wish would have been too risky for a woman like her. She did it to save us, proving once and for all where her allegiance lies.  
  
And what she said, had she been serious, about Sydney and I, I have no idea how to take that and I know it's wrong for me to think about it, but I suppose she said it for me to remember, it's shocking what she chose to do in what should have been her last moments. I mean, she kissed Jack and told Sydney and I that we loved each other. What am I supposed to make from that? There was no talk of continuing the business or the plan or coded talk for Sark, who, I suppose still is her right hand man. So what do I make from it all? I fear I'll never know.  
  
Jack's close enough to her to tell so why isn't he speaking? I swallow and wait.  
  
Sydney's POV  
  
My father, I've never seen him like this and I don't think I ever want to see him this distressed, this vulnerable again. It's typical that my mother should do this to him, accidentally or otherwise, in her dying moments. If she is indeed dead, because right now, I'm hoping to hell that she isn't and that would appear to be the case. Her chest, I can see it rising and falling, far too slow and not enough, but at least it is moving. Her skin, it's too white and wrinkled. Usually so tanned and healthy looking, I can't bear to look at her like this. And the scratches, goodness knows how they got there, they're like nothing I've ever seen, some of them run deep and far, but the way they're distributed causes only more questions, questions I may never get answers to.  
  
Dad is bending further and further over her, eyes wide as he looks, so slowly and carefully. I let my eyes slide to Sark, his face is still hard but his eyes have finally come to land on the body, live or dead, and his eyes are clearly glassy. Vaughn is just watching with narrowed eyes, knowing what I must be feeling and I can see him thinking the same.  
  
When we were rescued by the trio, I was shocked, to say the least, scared and shocked, at first suspicious of my mother and of Sark, but right now and trekking though the rainforest, I trust them, I don't know why, but everything seems to fit. I hate this slow tedious job, why can't she just wake up and have a happy reunion without the hours that are really only seconds of just lying there, not limp because my father is still too scared to touch her with more than finger tips.  
  
I can see him now though, he's close enough to see the truth, to find out, so what, I have to ask, is holding him back? My entire body stiffens and I wait for this climax that, no matter what, I know is going to send me into tears.  
  
Sark POV  
  
The man I admire, turned to goo, and not the warm, sentimental goo, Irina always claimed eh could be, under the right circumstances, the kind that occurs when there's nothing left. He was goo a minute ago, but Agent Vaughn had now caused him to stiffen, I doubt anyone else can see it, but I know these things, I was taught by the best to pick up on them and Jack is stiff, not with hope, but with fear.  
  
It takes me a moment to work out why, but I do, as always. He is scared he's wrong, he thinks she's alive as well and I must admit, right now I agree, she is alive. But what if we're both wrong, what if he picks her up and she is dead, dead in his arms. Obviously, I can see that this will be worse for him, to hold the dead body, but looking at it objectively, I think that perhaps, I'm scared of that too.  
  
He bends over her, so tenderly, so hesitantly, blatantly expecting to lose everything again. For the third time, my head hangs, people say to have the one person you love, your 'soul mate', to have them die, is almost as bad as death to you itself. Others say that once your 'other half' is gone, death is welcomed. So I have to try, to pressure myself to understand how it would be to have that happen three times. I feel sorry for him. It's unusual for me to feel sorry for anyone, almost an impossibility and in most people's opinion a miracle, but for him, to lose so great a woman, it must be bad.  
  
But she went down with a bang, proving once and for all that it wasn't money, that it wasn't power or mystery or death or hatred that she supported, she spent every second of her last minute showing that it was emotion, love probably, but I cannot be sure without asking her. I hope I get my chance.  
  
Jack's leaning over more, his hands wavering above the wounds. He's got to be able to tell, being that close, he should feel the heat, see her breathing, hear her breath, so why does he remain quiet? I breathe heavily and wait.  
  
Jack's POV  
  
She's alive, she has to be, she'd bleeding, breathing, and creating heat, is there any other explanation. Anything at all to say she's dead? I have to wonder how she managed; she's obviously a better swimmer than I ever imagined. The cuts, I still don't understand and I will ask her when she wakes up. When she wakes up...No longer an if, but a when. And she will, it's not questionable. The others, they're all standing behind me, all waiting for a verdict, waiting for me to break what they hope is good news but are ready to hear bad.  
  
I swallow, even now, she's slowly warming up, I lay a hand on her waist, feeling the skin warmer than it had been minutes ago as she escapes the cool water and arrives in the heated Malaysian afternoon Finally, something fair. Of course, it isn't really, I will be fired and thrown into prison when I get back to the US, but she's alive and that, at the moment, is all that is important.  
  
I was scared to pick her up a moment ago; fearful she would fall limp and cold, the heat radiating only a dream and thus determine that she was indeed dead, but now, I am sure of myself. Perhaps stupidly, but I am. An arm under her knees and another behind her back, her arm around my shoulder, limp but not cold or dead, I stand, her body a dead weight but my own renewed with energy.  
  
Sydney stares at me, along with Sark and Vaughn, all of them still waiting for an answer. But what words could I use? So I just smile, my mouth twitching up and I can feel my eyes become lighter with relief. They all continue to stare at me a moment, Sydney's head inclined in question, the tears no longer falling but her face tear stained. I nod and she understands, "Really?"  
  
Sark looks at the body wide eyed and his hard exterior shattering, Vaughn similar as he draws the curtain back for me, leading my through to under the next willow and then further out onto the grass, in the full sun. I lay her, down, careful not to hurt her, the cuts still oozing tiny, insignificant amounts of blood that will undoubtedly hurt forever. I push her hair out of her eyes, her arm still draped around my shoulders. I go to remove it, to lie her down properly and I'm shocked to find her tighten her grip and smile delicately. Her eyes are still closed, but no dead body can do that.  
  
I grin and force it off, her smile remaining as though in some brilliant dream. I leave her on her back, the sun drying the water on her feet and legs, the rest almost gone already. The blood slowly stops as I dab at it with the corners of my shirt, the sun helps, sealing the wounds temporarily though they will doubtlessly break open when next she moves.  
  
I stand up and leave her there, an eye always watching her as she lies, unmoving and seemingly dead but for the tinge of tan returning to her skin. Sark, Vaughn and Sydney stand, all expressions hopeful but still restrained enough, just in case she's dead and I have something sad to say. I have to make them understand that she's fine and I say it as simply as I can, "She appears to be just tired, not even really unconscious; just deeply asleep."  
  
Sydney stares at me, "What she's fine, nothing permanent?" She sounds incredulous.  
  
"The cuts, they might leave some scars, but she seems fine." I keep using the word 'seem' perhaps because I still cannot be totally sure, so I try to beat my uncertainty into submission with words, something Irina would have done, "She is fine."  
  
Sydney smiles and would have continued but for a moaned and whispered voice from behind, "Jack," pain filled so much of the voice that I flinch as I turn to see.  
  
Reviews please. Didn't get many for my last round of updates 


	17. Slice

Title: Escape  
  
Rating: At the moment we shall stick with a PG, but it might get up to a PG- 13, who knows  
  
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney have been captured by Cuvee and Jack and Irina must race to save them  
  
Notes: Enjoy people and Read and review, I hope you all had a great Christmas! I did! Yes, another one, I'm a bit stuck with the other two, so I figured do something else. This started with a song, I won't name it, but then I figured I should make it into a proper fic, so now I want reviews if you want more. Ahem, Read and review and enjoy, this one is also slowly drawing to a close. Anyways, hmmm, that's all.  
  
Author: If you hadn't guessed, it's me, Aeria, Aeryn, Doona, depending where you know me from.  
  
Chapter Seventeen  
  
"Jack," stupid that it's all I can think of to say. I'm faintly aware that this doesn't seem much like hell, but then, I don't believe in anything after death, so I have to ask; Where the hell am I? I'd ask it out loud but my throat is parched and the pain I can feel running over me is too much to risk opening my mouth. I remember everything that happened, every single word from the conversation on top of the waterfall, every little detail, the weather, the wind, the water at my feet. The words that Jack and Sydney said, the looks on their faces, but most importantly, what it felt like to finally be in his arms again. That was all I could think of as I fell, how damn good it felt and what I'd been missing out on in the past twenty years.  
  
That was the only memory that I had clung to as I fell, entering the water, surprisingly, with what I would consider a perfect dive, pulling my hands up the second I hit the water, trying with all my might to avoid the bottom that was closer than I thought. There had been no hope of living, I am, at heart, a pessimist, I rarely do something I don't have good odds for and this was not good odds. I hadn't believed I would even land in the water, I'd expected the gravity of the rock wall to pull me into that, but I know the moment I hit the water that I hadn't hit the vertical wall but was now faced with the horizontal wall, complete with jagged rocks at the bottom.  
  
I can remember the pain, but that's it, from that, as I lie here, wherever I am, I try to piece together what happened. I jumped, I hit the water, then what? I pulled my hands up, a reflex that curves the back and pulls you away from the bottom. It's a shame that very few people could dive into that pool and pull up fast enough not to smash their head open on the bottom. But I can't remember feeling that, I remember the floor curving away from me, my body getting closer and closer but angling upwards with the hopeless hope that I might escape.  
  
Then there was more pain. Life shattering, breath stopping pain. Across my shoulders and then pausing but only for a second, making the next abundance of slashes ten times worse, something attacking me twice, like a thousand knives, lined up and cutting a thousand slices along my body, starting half way up my neck and continuing over my shoulders and down through where my top had started, stopping a few centimeters after that. But, I'd felt them start again, this time on the bottom of my rib cage, hacking through the taunt skin of my abdomen before disappearing, only slicing a few times at my bare legs and never returning.  
  
What had that been, I think hard, my head hurting, but my mind ignoring the pain as I put the puzzle together, my eyes still tightly shut. And then it occurs to me, the slices were the bottom of the pool, the rock there would have been crafted from years of water moving over them, obviously the currents never change and had carved thin edges everywhere. But why had they cut me, instead of just smashing up into me, filling the pool with my blood?  
  
I wish I could be bothered to open my eyes but I can't, it's the kind of pain that makes everything seem insignificant, seem unimportant and unwanted. Right now all my body wants to do is rest, it doesn't care where I am, but I do. There hasn't been a reply to my one word, my utterance, 'Jack,' so I can presume that no one's listening, I think. My mind is blurry, I hate it but I can't think clearly.  
  
I grit my teeth, feeling the pain ebbing from my skin, even now it's slowly hurting less, I try not to breathe, the tiny movements of my skin sending acute pains up and down. I want to see where I am, I have to, screw what my body wants, I'm going to listen to what my heart wants for once.  
  
I open them, only a millimeter because, right now, that's all I can manage. I quickly close them with the light that's filtered in through my own lashes. Automatically I bring a hand up to my eyes, a whimper escaping, uninvited as I feel my skin tear again in a million places, knowing that the blood has started seeping out again. I swallow but can't move my arm too quickly, instead moving it agonizingly slowly back to my side, I try to blink my eyes open again, the pain creating adrenaline and waking me up.  
  
Then I feel a pair of hands, soft, feminine, welcome, brushing over my shoulders, looking at the wounds, causing tiny stings but forcing me to know someone's there. "Mom?" Only one person can call me that and I force my eyes open again, looking up, I find the son blocked by Sydney's head, for a moment, I think that this is some trick, but she's too real and I want to believe.  
  
She looks worried and I force my vision to steady, wanting to smile, to say something, but I can't, I don't know what to say or how to say it, and I still don't understand what's happening. Is it possible that I lived? I wouldn't have thought so, but perhaps, you never do know. Sydney speaks again, tiny bits of light filtering through from behind her and adjusting my vision to the light, I try to let my eyes slide around but all I see is flashes of green jungle, of the rain forest we were are in when I jumped. "Vaughn, give me a hand."  
  
A jolt of fear, why is she calling Agent Vaughn, but I can't think, Vaughn, I can see his face, staring at me, his usual vulnerability he exhibits around me still there, but an uneasiness has grabbed him as well. He looks at Sydney, one of those meaningful looks that I've only glimpsed a few times but am beginning to understand just how much they can say with a look. It's incredible. I would keep thinking but the pain comes back as Vaughn picks me up, gently I suppose, but still forcing skin to bend and crack open the slices. Sydney carries my feet and soon I'm in water. Just on the edge, the water coursing over me as Vaughn makes me sit up, I shriek.  
  
I don't remember ever having shrieked before, not once, but this isn't a bullet hole or a broken limb, this is everywhere, this is on every inch and even if the cuts aren't, my nerves seem to think they are. Vaughn doesn't say anything, nothing, he looks shocked, taken back, but there is nothing he can say, Sydney just looks at me, worried.  
  
The panic and pain sets off more adrenaline I can feel my brain warming up, becoming less fuzzy and aware of what's going on. For the first time I try to look around properly, surprised to find myself in the pool I thought would kill me, I'm sitting up, the top I'm wearing, still the black one, is shredded at the top and bottom, only just hanging onto my figure. There's blood around me, slowly dissolving away, but tiny bits as the water tries its best to wash the leaking liquid from my flesh. I swallow as the cold water numbs the pain and the adrenaline ignores it.  
  
Nothing's changed, only now, I'm down here and not up there, only now Cuvee seems to have left and now I'm alive, very sore, but alive. I look around, my gaze passing over Vaughn and Sydney to Sark who's grinning. Not his usual smug grin but a happy, surprised grin, but then the smug grin returns and I know I'm not dreaming, he speaks to me, the first one to speak to me properly, his voice is raspy but his words are strong and I want to laugh, "You're lucky," I smile at him, the pain ignored as I find another interest.  
  
"How do you think I'm lucky?" I ask, even then wanting to search for Jack, wondering where he is and why he isn't saying anything.  
  
Sark just smiles hard and in his normal cocky, British, son of a bitch accent answers, head to one side, "If you'd died, I never would have gotten my new Merc." He seems so matter of fact and I do laugh, deep and twisted, but amused none the less. Typical of Sark to make a situation like this into something about a car.  
  
I look him over, seeing he's slightly dirtier than when I jumped and his hair disheveled as though he has run his hand through it far too many times. I smile and say, "I'll get you two. And something else." He smiles and nods, standing still, forever my right hand man. I shake my head and let my eyes continue to wonder, brow creasing lower and lower as I find myself unable to find Jack.  
  
I wonder if he's dead, if Cuvee somehow killed him, I wonder if he's left or disappeared or something horrible has happened, but no, nothing tragic or disastrous, just there. I see him, my eyes bright and attentive now; they find him, hands shoved into his pockets, staring at me, face unreadable as ever and this upsets me. Maybe he's decided this was all part of my plan. I smile sadly at him and he just stares back, not glaring or smiling or anything.  
  
The feeling is startling.  
  
But then I realize what's going on. Sydney's next to me, Vaughn beside her, playing with his fingers in the water, his thoughts not with us. Sark is just standing, eyes ahead as he tries to appear on stand by, like a good soldier. But he isn't, that's why I recruited him, made him my right hand man, because he's never on stand by, even now he's thinking, about something. I don't need to know, I want to speak.  
  
My throat is parched though, I throw an empty hollow look at Jack, trying to make him understand, but like most men he doesn't and I'm forced to move. astonishingly the pain isn't as bad as the last time, already I'm getting used to it. I dip a hand into the water, tasting a little of it and finding it to taste fine I proceed to gulp down mouthful after mouthful, I can feel his eyes on me, burning like they always do. I take one last mouthful and sit back up, the pain still enough to haze my vision for a second. I stare at him but he remains steely and I ask him, my first words and they have to be a question, I'm so predictable.  
  
I smile sadly at him, "I know why you won't say anything."  
  
His brow just deepens but he asks his voice empty but for the huskiness he cannot mask, "What?"  
  
Hehe, longest chapter of all my updates and still not my usual length, sorry, I am so busy with the lead up to school. Anyways, please review, that's why you do get more, and I will write when I get a chance. Also, go read the others, in particular, review Mission cause it's my friend's birthday tomorrow and the latest chapter is hers, and that's going to be part of her present, but, if you hadn't noticed, I cannot provide reviews if you don't write them, so ppl, read and review everything you read! 


	18. Don't screw it

Ev, lol, there goes Jack's problem, thank you for reviewing all my fics  
  
Sydney, thanks for the review, hope you enjoy this  
  
miakaweasley, I think this might be my favourite as well, or a tleast it was when we were at the real core of it, now it's drawing to a close  
  
twin*muse, happy birthday to your dad.  
  
X, I could never end anything sadly, hehe, your in for a happy ending.  
  
J.Turenne, I agree that this one is at a more interesting place and don't worry, I managed to update three of them.  
  
Mandy@TTU, star, Intel, april here you go guys, thanks for reviewing  
  
Chapter Eighteen  
  
I grin, there's nothing else to do, I can feel tiny chuckles in my stomach, it's ironic how he acts. He sees my smile and his brow creases low, I take a breath, I have to put this perfectly if I am to succeed. "You think..." I pause and bite my lip, "You believe that this isn't going to be real." He stares at me and I try again, despite the pain and the headache that goes now hand in hand with talking, "You see me here and you know that it's going to be fake," my voice, it's incredulous, emotional, not like I should be, but I can't care, not now.  
  
I try one more time, "Jack," he looks at me, eyes hollow, but only because that's how he wants me to see him, I raise my chin, "I'm real," I sound so corny, the smile I'm wearing must only reinforce his doubts, "It is going to be a very screwed over relationship," is that what this is? "But right now," Sydney is staring at me from where she now sits beside Vaughn, even she can see what I'm trying to do, I hang my head, still keeping my eyes on him. "I'm real. I'm not dead, I'm not gone." His eyes, they're filled with wonder, bewilderment, doubt, shock, hesitance, nothing I really want to see, but then, no one can read Jack Bristow, not even me. All I can do is wait, watching him, letting my eyes flicker to Sark whose watching us with interest I'd expected to see better masked, I smile at him before returning my gaze to Jack, my eye voice volumes to him but his forehead still creased and his face expressionless. I swallow, fear clouding everything.  
  
I don't believe this, I don't blame him either, but this is unfair, for me to come back to life, only after experiencing Jack again, but to come back to life, from what should have been death and to not be able to have him, it's just cruel, I want him, no, I need him. There's nothing else I can say though, is there? I stare at him, feeling the water welling up in my eyes despite my mind's orders not to. The pain isn't doing this, Jack is and I hate, not him, but myself for it. If I wasn't already on the ground, I would collapse, "Jack, what else can I say?" it comes out almost as a sob and I can see that Sydney and Vaughn obviously know what I should say, that even Sark seems to have the upper hand here, but I can't it's all too cloudy, too hazy to know how to explain all of this to Jack.  
  
I'm sure that the entire reason he's acting so rigid is because he doesn't trust himself, he doesn't trust the world, but how can I convince him? Jack just stares at me, slightly taken back with my words, and probably my emotion, I stare at him harder, trying as ever, to say what he want sot hear, but not knowing how to. His eyes widen, opening up but he doesn't' budge.  
  
"Jack," it's a plea but I don't care, nothing truly matters, I just wish I could get to him, to show him without collapsing from the pain, "Jack, please," I can't believe how open I'm being but it doesn't really matter, and all of a sudden I'm angry. Probably not at him, but just at everything, "Jack." No longer pleading, "I'm alive," defiant, as though I must be right. "Come here," still no movement, he's watching though, still intent, looking, I suppose for a sign. I try to stand, but can't. "Jack, if you give up on this, I have to as well. This, this is stupid, I mean honestly how can you just not move," I let it all go, knowing there's a good chance I won't make any sense, but needing the release, "All our lives, everything has been unfair, everything has been wrong or untimely or unlucky. And now it isn't, we have this tiny little chance and you're going to throw our love away."  
  
I see his eyes flicker and wonder why, I'm aware I sound angry, I'm aware that my accent is thicker that usual, I'm aware Sark's adopted a smug grin, I don't why, but it just slipped onto his face. Jack's voice finally, "What?"  
  
I freeze one step forward but I don't know what he means, what he's referring to. I pause, my breath catching in my throat as I fight for an answer, I open my mouth to give him an open ended answer, hoping he'll fall for it.  
  
Sark cuts across me, his voice still cocky and British, "Last few words, Irina, don't screw this up." He grins at me.  
  
I glare at him, I was ready and I see Jack closing up a little more, only a little because there isn't much more he can cut off. Then I register what Sark said, 'Last few words' and swallow. I smile at him then to Jack who's watching me like a hawk, "I love you," the words are as much as a revelation to me as they are to him, when I first said 'our love' it just slipped out, I didn't even know it was there. But now, thanks to Sark, it's obvious what Jack needs and I gave it to him. I hadn't really realized that that was what it was, how deep and surreal it could be, but I'm sure now that I've managed to say it. I'm in love and Jack knows it, and Sydney knows it, and Vaughn knows it and obviously Sark knew it before me.  
  
For a moment I think that perhaps Jack still isn't satisfied and then I see the corners of his mouth twitching up into a grin, he's biting his lip, his eyes glinting making him look twenty years younger and his head cocked on its side. I shake my head wondering why he hasn't moved, "Well?"  
  
Jack grins even more, never before has such a sight been so perfect for me, screw the pain, this makes it cower away is fear. "I don't think it would be wise of me to touch you." Sydney looks shocked and I have to bite my own lip to stop from laughing. Poor Sydney, so traumatized, and now her father grinning, at me, I'd laugh if I wasn't overcome by the hungry look he's managed to throw into my line of view. "I mean, you're hurt."  
  
I sigh, my chest raising enough to remind me of the pain, I left my hands, ignoring the splits of pain running over me and managing to smile, good god, if I could just feel his lips again I wouldn't mind the pain. I let my fingers run over the cuts, they're all sealed now, tiny trickles of blood still running over my body, I wash them off, trying to make the cuts look smaller, less painful, anything to get him over here.  
  
I look up and grin at him, admiring his resolve to stay away from my own good, "It's not that bad," he takes a step forward before stopping himself. "Jack," that sounded seductive even to my own ears.  
  
He glares at me, playfully, even now walking towards me, only another four, maybe five steps. I raise my eyebrows expectantly as he stops beside me, looking down, "Hmmm?" I ask and he immediately sits down, feet in the water, right beside me. So close I can feel the heat radiating off but still managing enough control to stay far enough away not to be touching. I wonder if he realizes this hurts more than the cuts. He ignores me, watching my and trailing his hands in the water, Sydney, Vaughn and Sark are watching from a distance, "Please," I ask in my most innocent voice, which, of course is totally un-innocent.  
  
He stares at me for a moment before bringing a hand up to my cheek, cradling it perfectly, my head turning and my lips kissing the inside of his palm, his fingers moving back and forth over my skin, I sigh and turn back to him, watching as he moves closer, he stops centimeters away, "Remember you asked for this." I can sense there's more to his words than what just face value but I don't think about it, instead concentrating on finding his lips as he continues to evade my own. Suddenly, though, they're on mine. Gentle, like I remembered, but insistent.  
  
Angled against mine and I know I was right, this makes the pain insignificant, ignorable. His tongue starts to trace my own lips and I tease him, waiting a few seconds before opening my mouth to him, I can feel him grin against me as our tongue duel silently. My own hands have found their way, quite by themselves, around to his back, one pulling him closer, even while he resists, my pain always stopping him, and my other hand on the nape of his neck. His own hand remains on my cheek, sometimes moving down to my neck, but staying there.  
  
His other hand escapes the water, I hear it and in the back of my mind I wonder where he'll place it. I'm surprised to say the least when he risks laying it on my stomach, directly over the cuts, tiny droplets falling from his hand, granting me a wonderful feeling as the droplets join to form little rivers trailing over the cuts, diminishing the pain until it isn't there and his hand and the water he continues to scoop up from the pool are simply another source of pleasure. I sigh against his lips and he instantly draws back, "Did I hurt you?" his hands stop, he stiffens as he tries not to move and I laugh.  
  
I lick my lips, shaking my head at him, "No," he relaxes a little, "But come back or I will." He grins, fully, properly, I don't think I could ever get sick of him, not watching him, not kissing him, not talking to him, nothing. He leans closer, ready to kiss me again, his fingers absently tracing tiny shapes on my stomach, over the cuts, so gently it's total bliss.  
  
But Sark interrupts us, "We have to go." I glare at him. He shrugs, "We do," he pauses, "And eventually this will start to gross you daughter out." He says it as though it's fact and he's probably right. I let my eyes wander over to her and Vaughn, they're actually holding hands, I think that this might be having a positive effect on them. Sark just grins at me, mischievously.  
  
Jack stops drawing pictures but the pain stays away. I smile and nod, "I can't walk." That's true at least and the implied question that goes with it I do need an answer for.  
  
Vaughn makes his way over, somewhat tentatively, "We're not far from the Merc," Sark grimaces, "I'm sure it'll still be drivable." Sark's grimace turns into a hunch.  
  
Sydney joins in, "I'd say about twenty minutes that way. Not uphill."  
  
Jack looks at me, obviously worried and I smile, repeating my problem, "I can't walk."  
  
"I can carry you," Jack explains, "On my back." Sydney stares at him, still not quite to terms with his new found openness. "I can manage."  
  
I smile at him, my eyes narrowing as he stands and holds hid hands out. I grasp them tightly, and pull my self up, flinching at the pain. Immediately he grabs me around the waist and I steady myself against him. He looks down at me, worried but I just grin and wrap my arms around his neck. Glaring at me, the smile dimming the scowl, he turns and crouches, helping me as best he can onto his back, letting me wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, immediately the heats almost too much, I smile into his hair as the remaining three look at us with their own secretive looks.  
  
Jack shakes his head before beginning to walk in the direction Sydney pointed out, heading back towards the car, towards civilization, back to LA.  
  
Review guys, you know you want to 


	19. Kendall the painful

Chapter Nineteen  
  
The return trip was as normal as it could be, they managed to catch a plane out later that day, the five adopting aliases and sitting apart and sleeping, unsurprisingly for most of the trip. At the airport they had dinner each sitting watching the others, playful smiles crossing the table at many instances. And then they had to board, Sark who had bought a ticket with them took a moment to explain himself.  
  
"I'm coming with you back to LA."  
  
Irina smiled at him, "We guessed that," she grasped Jack's hand in a way Sydney had never thought she'd see her father manage.  
  
Sark just shrugged, eyeing her over, "I have files, on a lot of things," his smile turned from smug to secretive; "I believe that they might be useful to the CIA."  
  
Jack's brow creased, "And what? You plan on giving them to us?"  
  
Sark nodded and in his cocky British accent he responded, quietly as he passed his boarding pass to the attendant, "Precisely, once back, I'll get them and meet you at the LA CIA headquarters, perhaps ten minutes later than you."  
  
Irina raised an eyebrow at him but didn't question, instead watching as he tried to the seduce the blond in the twenty seconds she was concentrating on him. Sadly, he failed. Irina dropped Jack's hand and pretended not to know him as she boarded the plane, feeling his presence behind him, but knowing there was no way they would be able to talk until they landed. Taking her seat, she relaxed and soon fell asleep, the pain and adventure colliding to result in fatigue.  
  
Jack was seated three seats in front of her and soon succumbed to slumbers as well, along with the Sydney and Vaughn who simply fell asleep watching each other out of the corner of their eyes across the aisle. Sark, on the other hand grabbed his chance. He soon had the airplane phone to his ear and was whispering into it at a tremendous rate, hanging up and redialing a new number and waiting, impatiently for someone to pick up. The airline crew was intrigued to try to catch words from him and ten minutes into the flight he had seduced one far enough to find himself in a first class seat with glasses of wine and snacks surrounding him.  
  
His seduction was perhaps partially due to the fact that each time he dialed a new number, he spoke a new language, one particular hostess would later swear to CIA agents that he went through over twenty when in fact; it was perhaps more than twenty five. Half way home, he sighed heavily and hung up the phone, smirking, content with his actions and turning to the hostess nearest by.  
  
Grinning she helped him out, taking the phone and empty glasses before sitting down beside him, her long red hair suddenly out and curling around her face as she listened avidly as he told her tails of triumph over the black market, back in Indonesia, where he had been for a year. In typical Sark style, he also weaved in enough truth so that when the CIA did track her down, they would be able to work out how he had pulled it all off, but in honesty, he just liked the conversation, women were, to him, the most interesting beings there were.  
  
Several hours later they landed, the impact waking the agents left asleep and startling them into action. The pilot's voice came over the loudspeaker and they all waited patiently to be let off the plane, twenty minutes later they were waiting outside customs and another ten minutes after that and they were through and standing outside, wild winds whipping around them as they talked to each other for the first time in hours.  
  
"Long flight," Irina said the first words of all of them. Sark just smirked.  
  
"Yes," Jack said, a tinge of playfulness to his words, "But now we have to get back." Irina nodded and Vaughn and Sydney continued to watch them,, Sark looked to have his attention elsewhere.  
  
"Where do we go from here?" Sydney asked, slightly sad to see her parents split so soon after they had come together.  
  
"Well, Sark is free," Jack said, his voice sounding easier than he had intended, "He can leave whenever he wants. I suppose that the four of us just go back to the CIA and walk in the front door."  
  
Vaughn nodded, looking to see what Sark was up to, his eyes were scanning the roads, "Rent cars or risk a taxi?"  
  
Jack shrugged, to catch a taxi was dangerous and against CIA rules but he was tempted, how many rules had he already broken? So Sark answered for him, "Take the cars, over there," he pointed out the rental car yard and the four looked to him, openly suspicious. "I'll waltz into the CIA ten minutes after you; just don't expect me to hang around."  
  
Jack raised an eyebrow, not sure what was going on, Irina appeared to have less of an idea, "Oh," Sark added as he turned and began o walk away, "Take separate cars, take your time."  
  
Irina grinned at his back while the others just hid smiles as he turned a corner and disappeared from view. "I think we should take his advice." She said carefully, tempted to wink at Jack but holding back for the sake of their daughter.  
  
Not long after, Jack and Irina were cruising along the highway in a black rental, Sydney and Vaughn trailing. Sydney's eyes continued to slide to Vaughn's, catching the other staring, grins would take over their faces and immediately they'd look back to the road. Realizing that they would eventually get back to the CIA headquarters, Vaughn spoke first from behind the wheel, "Do you think that they'll arrest your dad?"  
  
Sydney shrugged, looking at him again, "Probably, I mean they arrested me for maybe being some woman in prophesy that was written by some guy hundreds of years ago. I mean he's going to walk in there with his arm around her." Sydney paused, "You know, I can't wait to see Kendall's face."  
  
Vaughn smiled sensing she was more worried than she was letting on, "You know, they can't really be too hard on him; I mean he did bring her back, and he rescued us."  
  
Sydney shook her head, "It's just stupid though, I mean, unfair to him and mom, it's really stupid, everyone knows that he didn't break her out to help him take over the world and the only thing that stopped him from breaking her out legally in the first place was protocol. Stupid protocol."  
  
Vaughn caught on quickly, "You think protocol is stupid?" Sydney smiled at him, thanking him for making this conversation easier.  
  
"Yeah, I mean most of it makes no sense, thinking that they can weigh up loss of human life against money and holding people down and everything else." She paused looking at him quickly before focusing on the road. They were getting too close to the building; she had to hurry this along, "I mean the whole no relationships thing is ridiculous."  
  
Vaughn had to bite his lip to stop himself from kissing her right there, "You think so," she gave an almost unperceivable nod, "Yeah, me too." Sydney face almost split in two but Vaughn started again, "You know what your mom said, just before, well, she jumped?"  
  
Sydney nodded, knowing what he meant and repeated his words as she turned off the highway, "Sydney, Vaughn, it is love," she lowered her head as she spoke, "that's what she said." Vaughn nodded.  
  
"She is right," he said, whispering almost, as Sydney turned the car off, right out the front of the CIA building, parking the car behind the vehicles that contained her parents. Sydney only a had a moment to stare at him before he pulled himself out of the car and up, she quickly followed, looking at him over the top of the car, her mind working at what he had said.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Vaughn saw Jack and Irina climbing out of their own car and he knew there was nothing left to say. Sydney saw him coming, could have stopped him, but didn't want to and in a second he was in front of her, eyes locked, the world forgotten for that one little moment. Sydney smiled and nodded "She is." And then she leaned in until she could feel his breath on her cheek, on her lips and thought she was about to explode.  
  
It was a tender kiss, not rushed or overly passionate, just sweet and perfect. Their hands exploring each other's hair and back tentatively and their eyes closed as they tried to hold onto the feeling forever. Of course, this wasn't to be and while Jack and Irina just watched, smug, content expressions in place, a raging Kendall soon put a stop to the public display of affection.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Sydney and Vaughn leapt apart, their eyes locking for only a moment and the resulting smile carefully hidden from their superior.  
  
When Jack didn't make a move to explain, Sydney quickly took over, "Sir, we thought that you'd like to know that we made it back," she smirked at him, longing to hold Vaughn's hand but deciding against it, "With or without your help."  
  
Kendall glared at the four of them as Jack and Irina made their way over to stand with the younger agents. He was about to speak when a group of agents rushed past and Kendall shook his head, "Let's get inside."  
  
In silence the four of them followed him through the doors, up a flight of stairs down several corridors and eventually into a lovely big conference room. He motioned for them to take a seat before leaving, locking the door behind him and effectively blocking any mistake. It had already been at least five minutes since their arrival and Jack noticed Irina growing restless, God knew what Sark was going to do when he arrived, for all they knew he might blow the place up or bring them a box of candy.  
  
Luckily, not long after Kendall walked back in, closing the door but not quick enough to block the several burly guards from view. Sydney rolled her eyes, trying not to worry over what fate held in store for her father. Kendall, noticing, said, "Miss Derevko, Jack, both of you have acted illegally," Irina raised an eyebrow, "You've broken quite a few rules and broken, once again, your agreement with us. For that you will be punished."  
  
He sounded serious, he sounded stupid though and Jack just quickly interrupted him, "Sir, you know perfectly well that I had the CIA's best interests at heart."  
  
Kendall stared at him, "I think it perhaps had more to do with your daughter, but yes, I agree that you were not, in any way, trying to help Miss Derevko escape. You're too intelligent to fall for her charms." Typically this sent the room into broad grins which Kendall soon noticed but decided not to comment on, "As for the two of you," he looked to Sydney and Vaughn, "You know the rules of protocol, what happened out in the parking lot, will not," he emphasized the word, "Happen again."  
  
Sydney's grin only grew while Jack shared a raised eyebrow with Irina, "I'm going to request you see Barnett, both of you. If you choose not to, I'll have you reassigned." The humour fell from their faces as they realized how grave the situation should have been. Momentarily Vaughn wondered why his boss was being so soft on them, but quickly pushed the query away as Irina spoke. 


	20. The red head

Okay, well, basically, I am back to school and unable to find the time to write very much, but I will try, you are just going to get used to erratic posting patterns and shorter chapters, though this is pretty good in length considering. So yes, it might be a little confusing, sorry, but review guys and I'll get more up asap!  
  
Chapter Twenty  
  
"Mr Kendall," it was obvious to everyone present bar Kendall that there was a new kick in Irina's voice but still the smug grins went unnoticed. "I believe you might want to have someone waiting out the front for the arrival of Mr Sark."  
  
"Mr Sark?" Kendall spluttered, looking about the room in search and found little from anyone, Jack stepping in to offer what he could.  
  
"Yes, he wouldn't tell us much but he led us to believe that he would be walking in here around about now." Kendall stared at him, his eyes obviously portraying his disbelief and incredulity, not to mention the undeniable question of why they'd been in contact with Mr Sark. Jack continued, answering as briefly as he could, "Mr Sark accompanied us on the mission and then escaped. Only after promising to come back to the CIA, I assure you."  
  
"He will be here," Irina told him, looking pointedly at the clock on the wall.  
  
Kendall shot a glare at her, "How can you be so sure."  
  
She raised an eyebrow smirk taking over her features, "I don't think that you should worry about that, instead I think it might be in your best interests to get some agents into the front foyer. He's going to come in but I have no doubt he's going to try to escape."  
  
Kendall's eyes narrowed, "I think we can handle him." Despite his assurance he was out the door, motioning for them to follow. They did in single file, Jack in the lead, Irina behind followed by Sydney and Vaughn bringing up the rear. The marched straight out into the large open foyer and looked around, each taking in the people that clustered here and there, the secretaries sitting behind their desks and the people walking in and out of doors and white washed corridors.  
  
Looking around, Kendall, hands on his hips caw nothing out of the ordinary and picked up a phone from the nearest reception desk, putting it to his ear he leaned over and keyed in the number. Moments later he was ordering men out and less than a minute later men began pouring from a door and started standing around, ready to draw their carefully hidden guns.  
  
It was around that time that Jack found an insistent hand land on his arm and grinned as he looked to Irina who had an identical smirk on her face and was motioning with her eyes to where several people sat along a row of chairs. He stared for a minute, looking over them and counting them up, eleven in total. He looked to Irina, trying to find an explanation and she reveled in having an excuse to lean in and rise onto her toes to his ear, "Third from the left."  
  
His brow creased as he found the young man she mentioned and looked at him, thinking hard, he definitely seemed familiar and it was a few seconds later that he realized it was a red haired, red bearded, briefcase carrying Sark. His jaw dropped, that was one very good disguise. At finding himself being stared at, Sark winked before turning back to his newspaper.  
  
Irina continued to whisper into Jack's ear, knowing that her breath had to be having some effect on him but trying not to think about it. "We should tell Kendall or we'll be here for ever."  
  
Jack nodded briskly and, keeping an eye on Sark, he walked over to Kendall. Hesitating a moment, he waited until Sark nodded, signaling that this was his plan before tapping Kendall on the shoulder and telling him, "Sir, he's over there." He pointed Sark out, saying, "The one with the red hair and the newspaper."  
  
Sark made a show of pretending not to notice while Kendall just stared, "Are you sure?" he asked incredulously.  
  
Jack nodded as Sydney and Vaughn met him and it was then that Sark stood, walking over to the pair and grinned, "Afternoon Jack." Jack could barely suppress the smirk, trying to turn it into a glare so as not to anger Kendall who stared at the imposter. "Mr Kendall." He grinned, "Would you mind if we go into a private room. I have something to give you."  
  
Kendall looked surprised, shocked, angry and unsure before nodding and turning, motioning for two of his guards to stand beside the red head. They did so and Kendall led them into the conference they'd all just been into. Turning he went to shut the door but Sark stopped him, raising a hand and saying, "Are you going to lock your gift outside?"  
  
The statement caused Kendall to pause long enough to allow ten people to wander into the room, each looking stiff and angry. Kendall's eyes widened in question while Irina and Jack looked at each other before their faces split and deep chuckles escaped as they tried to suppress the laughter.  
  
Well? Tell me what you think. 


	21. Explain

Thank you so much for reading this, you have no idea how good reviews are so keep em up. This is almost done so please review this chapter, it might be one of the last. Also go check out my other fics, they're around and all just as good as this.  
  
Chapter Twenty One  
  
"Okay," Irina faced Kendall, knowing he expected her to look his way as he was apparently in charge, or at least as in charge as one could get standing beside Jack, "To explain. Three years ago, I was working closely with Sark on gathering material that I could use to blackmail people, not just the good guys, but also the bad guys. You know this. When I first assigned Sark to watch over Sydney while I was here, in prison, we made several back up plans, escapes for me if anything went wrong, ways of cheating the CIA out of things in return for others, a hundred and one different ways to turn the tables so that I had control."  
  
Jack grinned, not really that shocked at how much everything had been set up perfectly, not for the CIA but for Irina, she truly could have fled at any time. Seeing him and sending a quick smirk, she continued, "We hacked into the security camera feeds and I suspect I was being watched most of the time by my own team and Sark communicated with me a few times via Morse code."  
  
"How?" Kendall asked, shocked and not following.  
  
Jack answered for her, having done it a few times before himself. "Most cameras, including our own, have a red on/off button on them, visible to people in front of the camera."  
  
She nodded, smiling again, not really that worried about them getting mad. "Usually it was just simple messages, assuring me that everything was going to plan, but it was necessary, if we were to keep a close eye on the CIA and make sure everything was going neatly. When I left, with Jack, who, quite uncharacteristically broke me out, I had Sark meet us in Malaysia. Of course Jack had no idea until Sark arrived at which stage everything got a little bit hectic. From there we rescued Sydney and Vaughn and came back home, that part of the story you know mostly."  
  
Sydney rose an eyebrow as her mother left out the details of her own wounds but didn't speak instead listening and watching Sark out of the corner of her eye who continued to leer at the ten people lined up who scowled back as he took his beard off. "Sark left us at the airport, he escaped and now he's back. No one but I and he knew he would return." She lied quickly, the tightness of her voice now obvious to Jack who continued to watch Kendall for his reactions, "And now that he has, I am hoping that you'll let him leave."  
  
"Right," Kendall spoke, voice almost as arrogant as Sark's but not quite, "I'm going to have to say no to that and put him under arrest, but not before you tell me who these people are."  
  
She nodded, ignoring his refusal causing Jack to think she still had an ace up her sleeve, "One of our backup plans involved forty seven of the worlds most wanted bad guys, we could have gotten more, but then we wouldn't have had our favourite number. You see before you ten of them today."  
  
"Hang on," Vaughn stopped the conversation, his brow low and creases crossing his forehead, "You're saying that these are people we're going to want to throw in prison?" He glanced at them, his doubt growing as he saw none of them were being held and could easily run, not to mention that they looked relatively harmless.  
  
"Yes," Sark said, glad for the chance to speak to Vaughn with such malice, "They are."  
  
Irina glared at him, knowing that Sark had no idea what had crossed between the two agents out in the car park but reveling in the look of disbelief that crossed his face as Vaughn slipped his hand into Sydney's. "May I introduce Mr Christopher Person, head of the African drug smuggling ring, Mr Craig Doolard, right hand man of Mr Patrick Poler," she pointed the three out, "Together they make up the top three drug smugglers in Africa, but you already knew that.  
  
Kendall continued to look speechless as she worked from left to right, still with seven people left. "Mr and Mrs Connolli, Russian Mafia, David Bullock, defected from the CIA last year and took over what was left of the Boston inner crime circuit, Shannon Nush, you might not know him but he has been gathering money and was just about ready to take a shot at the big league. The other three worked on Alliance security, I suppose you might find a use for them. And that is simply our," she motioned to Sark, "Way of proving we aren't here to help them but to help you."  
  
"How exactly did you get them here?" Jack asked, taking his chance while Kendall tried to make sense of the situation.  
  
"Simple," Irina wanted to add 'honey' and almost did but for Kendall's eyes on them. "Between Sark and I, we have enough information on each to have half the crime world after them. They each agreed, I suspect, to turn themselves into the CIA rather than face the less fair half of society." Her words were delicately put but made it plain to see that the ten captives had two choices; CIA or death in the most terrible way. Of course, each had been intelligent enough to choose the CIA.  
  
Kendall, having finally caught up soon had his cell phone out but asked before dialing, "You sure they're all who you're telling me they are?"  
  
Sark nodded, answering for both of them, "Yes, Agent Kendall, we are serious, test them however you want, they are who we say." He cocked his head, grinning at Irina, prepared, now that his task was complete, to have some fun and while Kendall dialed his chosen number, Sark's cocky British accent filled the room, "You know Irina, we could of course just leave."  
  
She would have answered but Kendall glared at them and she paused to listen to his words, "I need a squad sent up here, I have eleven persons needing to be escorted to separate cells for questioning and Miss Derevko to be returned to her own cell."  
  
Sark smirked, "He wants to arrest me?" he drawled the last work, making it sound as though Kendall had just proposed they go and arrest the queen on account of drunk driving and grinned like a maniac. Irina had to smile back, knowing there was very little chance of Sark staying with them much longer. "Are you sure you want to stay here?"  
  
She nodded, "I have a few loose ends to tie up before I retire," she smirked at him before turning to Jack.  
  
Sark nodded, putting his briefcase down and letting his eyes slide around the room, "I'll be off then."  
  
Kendall shut his phone and glared at him, instantly he pulled his gun, watching as Jack did the same though not noticing that the safety was still on and his hands lax, "I don't think so Mr Sark, you will be staying here at least until we have a first name."  
  
Hey guys, well what did you think? I really want your opinions cause this is very close to a close. 


	22. Byebye Sarky

Enjoy this nice long chapter guys. Might be the second or third last.  
  
Chapter Twenty Two  
  
Standing and walking cautiously and directly into a trap, Sydney moved to stand between the two guns and Sark, saying, "Now, gentlemen, I'm sure that Mr Sark wouldn't be stupid enough to try to run while he's stuck in the middle of a CIA building. So, I believe, Mr Sark, that you should just let them take you away."  
  
With a jolt, Sark realized what she was doing and felt a tiny bit guilty, she was obviously scared that he was going to run and be shot and was now trying to save him. Obviously she had come to like him somewhere between the time he'd gotten onto the plane in Malaysia and when he'd first wandered into the CIA and was now trying to have him treated as a human, a living human, wasn't she sweet. He grabbed her, as gently as he could manage around waist, pulling her to him and keeping her between him and the two guns. Carefully, so as not to hurt his prisoner who was yet to start to struggle because of the momentary shock, he kicked out sending Jack's limply held gun into the air and down into his awaiting hand.  
  
Jack pulled his hand back grabbing it as it began to throb and looking to Sark met his eyes. A brief look of worry crossed his face causing Jack to ignore the fact that his daughter was now held at gun point and look to Irina where she sat, brow low on the table. Locking eyes with her, he managed to ignore Kendall's shout, "Drop the gun now Sark, drop it or I shoot."  
  
"On the contrary Agent Kendall, if you do not drop the gun, I will shoot," he said, loading the gun and holding it in what appeared to be a painful way to Sydney's head. She only tensed, every muscle preparing her for escape. Sark knew full well that, should Sydney decide it was in her best interests, as it appeared, to kick the hell out of him, he would indeed probably end up dead. So, lowering his gun to the middle of her back and forcing her to arch, her ear near enough to his mouth for him to whisper, in fluent Dutch, a language Kendall had always neglected, "Don't move. I'm going to escape and the only way for me to do this is with your help."  
  
She stared at him for a moment, wondering why she was even considering letting him use her to help him escape, "I'm not going to shoot you, so if you struggle, I'm going to end up dead or in custody. A place where I can't help you or the CIA."  
  
Sydney looked around the room and seeing the fear written all over Vaughn's face she quickly nodded and adopted a look of fear she'd never bothered to use before. Switching to French, another language Kendall had ignored, she spoke to Vaughn, "He's not going to shoot me, it's all just an act."  
  
Vaughn stared at her before Kendall asked, miffed at not understanding, "What did she say?"  
  
Vaughn quickly exchanged looks with Irina and Jack, another two people in the room not naïve to the language, "She said..." he was about to over ride protocol again and he loved it. "She said just to shoot him that she didn't matter."  
  
Sydney had to stop herself from grinning as Kendall turned back to her and Sark, the two of them inching closer and closer to the door, "Sark, I want you to let her go."  
  
"No."  
  
"Kendall do something," Irina cut across, trying her best to sound like the terrified mother she would have been had she not been trained for situation and hadn't known that it was all fake anyway. "If he hurts her I swear to god..."  
  
It was a shame that she had never been capable of fake tears because this was the perfect situation. Kendall stared at her, trying to make sense of the situation, "Mr Sark, this is your last warning, drop your gun or I will shoot."  
  
He shook his head and was about to speak when Irina made a very half assed lung towards him, "Sark, please don't hurt her. Please, take me instead." She had to keep her head down to keep the remaining agents in the room from seeing the sneaky grin she threw at him.  
  
"Sark," Vaughn put in, "If you hurt her I will hunt you down and kill you."  
  
Jack just leaned back, rolling his eyes one he was out of Kendall's line of sight and watched as his superior fell to pieces, watching helplessly as Sark pulled Sydney out the door and made off down the hall. Once out of ear shot, Sark leaned close again, letting Sydney walk relatively freely and asked, "What's the quickest way out of here."  
  
She grinned, "You can't honestly think that you are going to be able to just escape and not ever be caught?" She tugged him away, down a corridor, thankful that they hadn't met anyone yet. "Kendall's going to have men after you in a few minutes."  
  
"I doubt that." He grinned as he came to a door, turning the handle as Sydney came to a stop. "First of all, he has ten people in there that I doubt he'll want to leave alone and I have a jet waiting just over the border."  
  
She looked up at him, shocked, as the two wandered past a janitor, their heads down, Sark's gun forgotten at his side as they walked briskly side by side towards the fire exit. On reaching it they both pushed out as the alarms began to ring. "Well, Miss Bristow." He looked about and for a second, Sydney expected a Mercedes to roll up next to them. Luckily it was only a stylish sedan, complete with stylish woman at the wheel. "Look's as though it's my time to leave."  
  
She nodded, not able to help but smile as he gracefully lowered himself into the passenger seat, welcoming the kiss on the cheek that the blond awarded him with. "I look forward to our next meeting."  
  
"Yes," he commented off handedly as the fire sirens stopped, "Perhaps next time we meet you'll be married?" He winked, "But until then, please make sure that the CIA takes my calls, they'll be worth it."  
  
She grinned at him, nodding as he shut the door, waved and sped off just as a torrent of CIA agents spilled out of the main entrance, their eyes darting about before focusing on her. Quickly, she wiped the grin from her face and pointed, shouting, after Sark, "He's getting away."  
  
The men in black, as she found herself thinking, ran off after the quickly exiting car, looking overly comical as they struggled along until one had the bright idea of grabbing a car. A moment later, two vans whizzed around the corner and the men shuffled in, speeding off, as fast as a van could handle, after Sark and his newest blond. Sydney shook her head slowly, shocked at how inferior her beloved CIA looked in comparison to the underground crime lords but amused at the same time.  
  
She had grown to like Sark, suddenly having realized that he wasn't in it for the cash or the killing but most probably for the challenge, and now to see him grinning as he escaped capture everyone had though imminent was just fantastic. Feeling a heavy hand clamp down on her shoulder, she turned, expecting her father but meeting Kendal's angry eyes which turned even stormier as he caught her smile.  
  
"He got away?" he asked gruffly.  
  
"Look's that way."  
  
He nodded, thinking slowly as always and looking off at where black tire marks still smoked where Sark's blond had swerved out of the car park. "Your mother, having appeared to have done little wrong, is being returned to her cell in a few minutes. Your father will probably see trial but, as always, the great Jack Bristow will escape any punishment."  
  
Sydney nodded, keeping her face stern. "I can go and say goodbye to my mother?"  
  
"Yeah, but don't keep her, the longer she's out the more chance of a redo of Sark's escape."  
  
Pushing past he moved around to where another agent dressed in black and complete with gun was standing, screaming down the radio connected to his chest. Sydney watched for a few minutes as the two men argued before turning and heading back down the corridor, all the while wondering what she'd find left behind in the conference room.  
  
She found a rigid environment, tension hanging in the air as the three remaining tried not to say anything the cameras above would find interesting. On entering she smiled serenely at all three, noticing the missing presence, the empty hole that Sark had left behind. "Well, Kendall tells me that you have to go back into your cell, so..."  
  
Irina smiled at her daughter, her lips mimicking those opposite into a smile that made both Jack and Vaughn look from one to the other, trying to spot the difference. "This is goodbye, yet again," Irina finished for her, nodding slightly her acceptance.  
  
"I'll see you soon mom. Thanks for saving my life." Sydney said, grasping her mother's hand between her own and looking her in the eye, "I really appreciate what you did for us. And I'll take your advice seriously." She winked, letting her eyes slide around the room as realization downed on both her father and Vaughn's face, one after the other.  
  
Surprisingly, her dad didn't seem too upset and so Vaughn had the guts to quietly add as he stood up, moving to Sydney's side, "Yeah, thanks, your advice has been enlightening to say the least. I'll see what I can do to repay you." He nodded silently after that and left with Sydney, leaving behind him and awkward silence filled with tension that had changed so much but was still present.  
  
Walking down the hall, Vaughn couldn't help but keep a firm grasp on his girlfriend's hand, swinging the joined limbs between and looking at them with wonder. "We should really be getting home for some sleep."  
  
Sydney nodded, "Yeah.," she paused to grin angelically at a passer by, "We probably should."  
  
Walking side by side out into the car park they found themselves without cars and soon were walking along the road outside, making their way to the busy street around the corner where they hoped to find themselves a taxi. Vaughn let his eyes slide to Sydney's watching her just like he had always wanted to and admiring the way she let herself go when there was no danger, the confidence she oozed and the magnificence he'd always known that she had processed but had never had the chance to witness.  
  
"Syd," he asked, tentatively speaking, his voice barely audible.  
  
She looked up, shaken from her thoughts, "Hmmm?"  
  
"The advice you mentioned to your mother." He paused, wanted to be sure he had understood and wanting even more to know exactly where he stood in the mundane universe. "What did you mean?"  
  
She smiled, looking down at the foot path and turning left and onto a busier area of cement, "What do you think I mean?"  
  
He shook his head, having expected little less from the world's greatest woman, "You're going to make me look like total fool aren't you."  
  
She grinned, looking up again before moving her eyes back down to the pavement, "What do you think I mean?" she asked again.  
  
Vaughn shook his head, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. "I think and I hope and I know that if I'm wrong I have totally and utterly blown everything, but I think you were referring to what she said on the top of the waterfall." He stopped abruptly, searching her down-turned face for a clue but getting nothing.  
  
"Go on."  
  
He rolled his eyes before stopping, pulling her around to face him on the busty street side. "Sydney, I'm not sure if I've made this entirely clear but just to be sure." He paused, letting her watch him, a small smile playing at her lips while she guessed at what he was about to say. And while predictable, she still loved hearing those little tiny words, "Sydney, I love you. I mean, I'm in love with you and always have been it seems. You are.the love of my life."  
  
He watched as her face softened, the grin breaking through to her face as she watched him, seeing the edginess she quickly set him at ease, "I love you too. It's funny how long it's taken to actually say it when it's the one thing I've always known so truly and perfectly. But I do, I'm sure of it." She leaned in, kissing him gently on the lips before pulling back and quickly hailing a taxi over to them. He grinned, opening the door for her and watching, eyes wide with happiness as she climbed in. She was sitting there, watching him when she asked, the words escaping before she even had time to think them, "Jump in, Francie's out of town we can do and have dinner at my place."  
  
He smiled, looking around, "What if someone sees us?"  
  
She shook her head, "Worries are for tomorrow, always for tomorrow. Come on, jump in." Shuffling over to the other side of the car, she grinned as he climbed in with her, quoting her address to the driver and together they sat, staring into each other's souls for the short journey home and into the next stage of their lives.  
  
I really really need reviews, last time I updated no one reviewed, like three ppl and I sort of felt bad about it. I need to know what you guys think. 


	23. dumb superior

Chapter Twenty Three  
  
Jack watched as his daughter left the room, the result, only he and Irina, opposite sides, her sitting on a table, him standing, still shocked. As the door slammed shut, cameras still rolling but a sense that they could talk, Jack realized for the first time that his wife wasn't her usual self. Rushing over, he was shocked to find himself so worried, and for what? There was an extra slump to her, an extra wrinkle in her forehead when she watched him, smiling and acting like nothing was wrong.  
  
Immediately he asked, "What's wrong?"  
  
But she didn't answer, not having him to pick up on it, she was prepared to try to brush it all off, even while he hovered around her, looking for the cause of her distress. "Irina, what's the matter?"  
  
"Nothing," she chuckled, trying to shoo him away but failing as his head cocked to watch her more intently and for once she felt like telling the truth. Even in a little situation like this it was still important to the two of them, still important to her that she try to be honest and so, looking up and trying to sound as though it didn't matter, she answered. "It's just the cuts, they're deep."  
  
His brow creased, the look of worry and complete concentration on his face seductive in its own way and eliciting a chuckle from Irina as she stood, wincing as her skin moved, several of the cuts ripping open again. "You should have told me," Jack said, wrapping an arm around her waist, fingers tentative as he tried not to damage what he was looking at now as a fragile item further. "We have to get you some medical attention."  
  
"No," she said, voice defiant enough to ward him off, "I just need some water and a good night's sleep. Wrapping them up of a waist of time, they'll split every time I move, I just need to get back to my cell and lie down."  
  
"You're sure?" he asked, still not happy with the circumstances. "I could get you into a hospital for the night if you would rather."  
  
"No, just some water." She stopped, watching him, head cocked to avoid bringing her lips too close to his, "And a spare pair of hands?" She smiled at him as he nodded, slipping away from her to walk out into the hall, telling her to wait a moment.  
  
Once out in the white washed, overly clean hall, he grabbed the closest guard and forced his phone from him, demanding he be given access and scaring the hell through the young guard who had obviously never had the pleasure of dealing with someone like Jack. Punching in a number, he was soon on the phone with Kendall. "Sir, Derevko has sustained injuries."  
  
"What?" came his angry and blatantly frustrated voice back down the line.  
  
"Yes, she has a profusion of deep cuts across her stomach and legs."  
  
"Bad?" he asked, not sounding overly impressed but still totally unaware that the dynamic between Jack and Irina had changed in the slightest.  
  
"Yes, I'd say she's going to need to have them cleaned at least."  
  
"I don't want her leaving her cell again," Kendall said, his voice muffled by other voices as a group of guards walked past Jack.  
  
"She's going to have to need some sort of attention," Jack pleaded.  
  
"What would you have me do? Put her into hospital, give her a chance to escape? And you're not exactly in my good books either, so you guarding her isn't going to help."  
  
"No," jack said, dragging his helpless superior further into the trap. "We could leave her in the cell, but she is going to need someone there with her."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"I could go."  
  
"Jack..."  
  
"Lock us both in there, any other guard will either be seduced or killed. You know I can handle her, how else do you think she ended up back here?"  
  
There was silence on the other end for a few seconds while Kendall thought, his voice eventually coming back, still angry and frustrated but also tired. "I'll call around, there will be five guards, professionals, right around the corner, the entire night. So whatever you are planning, whether it be to break her out, again, or to break one of her legs, I don't want you to try it. You clean her up, make sure she isn't going to die, give her no reason to consider her treatment here bad and leave tomorrow morning, six am." He paused, "Personally Jack, I can't see why you don't just go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow you're going to be getting a lot of rude calls from my superiors and you do not want to be sluggish, but..."  
  
"You think that I'm the best man for the job." Jack finished for him, "Have the guards here with in five minutes." He hung up the phone, smiling as he handed it back to the still scared agent and turned to go back in the room.  
  
As he turned the handle he had no fear that Irina would have pulled a stunt and escaped, he just had that feeling of anticipation, that he was about to see her again and couldn't wait. It was stupid really that he should feel so badly, a few days ago, he'd hated her, or so he had thought, but now, now he was sure it was love. Turning the door handle, he moved into the room, his back to her as he shut the door.  
  
"Don't tell me you managed to convince Kendall to you stay the night?" she said as she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, "You really do have a way with words."  
  
"You should be careful." Jack said, relaxing into her but still ever careful not to hurt.  
  
"Do you mean my injuries or the fact that there are cameras around?"  
  
"Both."  
  
"My injuries are insignificant in this instance, you make them go away," he grinned, grasping her hands in his where the lay on his chest.  
  
"And the cameras?"  
  
"You were gone for too long," she grinned, nuzzling his neck from behind, "I got bored, I think that all they'll be seeing is static."  
  
Jack grinned, turning to face her and kissing her nose tenderly, "You're the devil I swear."  
  
"And is that so bad?" she smiled as he kissed along the muscle running from her neck to her shoulder.  
  
"Most definitely not." He grinned, planting a kiss on her lips.  
  
The door crashed open, hitting the wall with a loud bang as a stream of men ran into the room, shouting in what may as well have been Japanese for all the sense it made. From their words, Jack deciphered that the CIA wasn't all that impressed with the convenient breaking of their cameras. Luckily, the pair had broken apart at the first sign of company and not one of the guards noticed their unprofessional state. Raising there hands, they waited, smug grins hidden behind indifferent expressions.  
  
"What happened to the cameras?" one of the men, possibly the one in charge, boomed. 


	24. Moving in

Chapter Twenty Four  
  
"The cameras?" Jack asked innocently, his eyes, quite by themselves, sweeping around the room landing on Irina for a few seconds longer than they really needed to. "What cameras?"  
  
The same man, "There," he pointed up to where two cameras watched them, or at least should have been watching them. "They went off the moment you let the room. She was trying to escape." He pointed a finger at Irina, his brow creasing low as he tried to work out what was going on.  
  
"Well obviously I didn't get very far," Irina told him.  
  
Carefully and oozing superiority, Jack climbed onto the table Irina had doubtlessly used to look at the camera. Seeing that the wires were not broken and simply one a little loose, he carefully adjusted them, tapping the camera for effect before climbing down. "There's nothing wrong with them. It must be a problem with the feed, she obviously hasn't cut the wires."  
  
"You're sure?" he asked, gun slightly lowered.  
  
"Yes I'm sure, now take your men and fix the problem because it most certainly isn't here."  
  
Pulling himself up straight the man in charge was tempted to salute but resisted, instead he flicked a finger out to his men and turned on his heal, his mindless zombies stalking out behind him, the last shutting the door with a resounding bang. "Well, you certainly taught them a lesson," Irina stated, pointing out the obvious.  
  
"I did didn't I?" Jack turned to her and, seeing her approaching had to hold his hands up to stop her from doing anything...rash. "The escort guards will be here any second now and we wouldn't want to scare them now would we?"  
  
He gripped her wrists out in front of him, stopping her from letting them wander any where else. This of course only served to challenge her and if anyone thought she was someone who turned their back on challenges they were truly mistaken and she demonstrated this fact by leaning forward quickly and kissing him hard on the mouth, forcing his lips open with her own and blissfully letting her tongue duel with his.  
  
He pushed her back, growling playfully as he whispered her name, "Irina, don't tempt me."  
  
She grinned; loving the effect she was having on him and would have gone on had she not felt heavy footsteps outside the door, coming along the hall probably for them. Pulling away, he let her go, smirking until the door handle turned and at least eight men entered, staring not a Jack but at the ravishing beauty that was by then infamous within the walls of the CIA. Walking forward, the eldest said, without letting his eyes leave her, "We're here to escort you to the cell sir."  
  
Jack just smiled, not upset or jealous but more proud of Irina's captivating qualities, "Good, let's go."  
  
To men walked forward with enough chains to enslave a dozen men, Jack raised a hand and they halted, "Don't bother, it's not a far walk, she won't move an inch." Jack turned to one of the younger guards and held a hand out, asking for his gun. The young man quickly complied before stepping back to watch a legend in action as Jack Bristow glared ahead at his ex-wife and motioned her out. Looking at the back of her head, he struggled not to smile, "Don't try anything."  
  
It wouldn't have really surprised him to know that she could have very easily gotten out of the situation. The guards were sauntering ahead and along side her and all she had to do was place a well-aimed kick at him and she'd have both a gun and an exit path, but the idea wasn't on his mind, instead he took his vantage point as a blessing and concentrated on making a study out of the way she walked, long strides, arms swinging at her sides and her head held high. He grinned, his own head down to hide the look of affection that passed over him.  
  
Turning left and then right they continued their walk until they found themselves in the familiar brown walled halls of what led to Irina's cage. Increasing his pace, Jack caught up with the guards who stopped at his word and waited for him to tell them what to do. "You can leave now," he pointed out as he took the key from the lead guards hand.  
  
"Don't you want someone to lock you in?" one of them asked, as though this was obvious and indeed it was.  
  
"No," Jack said, voice calm and cold as he glared in the direction of the man who dared question him and was immediately met with a pair of scared green eyes. "I'll be fine." They nodded, half of them swallowing their fear as they turned and scampered away.  
  
Irina leaned against the glass wall as he unlocked the door, "You really trust me don't you?"  
  
He looked up momentarily as he waited for the electric lock to click open. "Yeah, I do."  
  
"How come?" she asked, slipping past him into the room to sit on the bed, hands by her sides as she looked up at the camera.  
  
"Because if I didn't, there wouldn't be much else left to live for." He looked up and, seeing the amazed look continued, "You've had enough time to escape."  
  
She cut him off, "But what about my ulterior motive?"  
  
He smirked, "Oh," he responded offhandedly, "Well, I've worked out what it is so I figure it doesn't pose much of a threat."  
  
Reviews, reviews, reviews....get the message? ;) 


	25. The New Plan

Chapter 25  
  
One Week Later  
  
Kendall watched Jack as he wandered around the central office space. He had a spring in his step and he had had for a good week. He didn't like it. He didn't like that Jack wasn't in any trouble whatsoever for breaking one of the CIA's most wanted out of prison and he didn't like that Irina was now cooperating more than ever. In just seven days she'd managed to give the CIA crucial data which led to the down fall of no less than four major terrorist organizations.  
  
Now, this was all well and good for the CIA, but Kendall wasn't as stupid as he looked; her and Jack, one of them had a plan. They were up to something. It wasn't as if she could have tricked him into falling back into love with her, could she? And he doubted that Jack was capable of tricking her into falling into love with him. So what was it, if neither was using their own allure, then who was playing who?  
  
He was startled out of his subconscious deliberation as Agent Vaughn stood in front of him, obscuring his view of Jack. Kendall looked up ready to get quite angry for no particular reason but was stopped by the serious look which was in place on the agent's face. "Sark is on the phone."  
  
The look of distaste on Vaughn's face was evident enough that he thought Kendall shouldn't take the call. But Kendall knew better, Sark was useful, he'd contacted the CIA twice with updates to Irina's previously given information which had aided them with a number of operations. Whatever he was playing at, he was playing it well. He nodded to Vaughn and left for his office.  
  
Alone, he picked up the phone and said, "You have two minutes."  
  
On the other end of the line, Sark grinned, throwing a look at the woman who sat on the edge of the bed just across from him. "Of course sir." He rolled his eyes and a slight giggle was heard from the other side of the bed. "I have a proposition..."  
  
O  
  
Kendall slammed the phone down, he mouth pouted with disgust. What Sark had just offered was illogical and if he thought that Kendall would take the bait he was sorely mistaken, still if it actually worked, which it wouldn't, it would definitely be in the CIA's best interests.  
  
O  
  
In Sydney's bedroom, Sark put down the phone, he sighed, slightly upset that Kendall had felt the need to hang up on him. "Well?" Sydney asked from across the bed where she was sitting putting her boots on, ready to head off for what promised to be a very interesting day at work.  
  
"Well...he hung up on me..." Sark sounded a little shocked, he'd always been one of those who thought that Irina's plans were infallible but this was unexpected.  
  
"Or course he did, he must think you're insane asking for something like that."  
  
"Ahh, and how exactly are you and your father going to convince him otherwise?" Sark asked back, standing and stretching, working the kinks out of his back.  
  
"Oh we have a couple of tricks left to pull. Not to mention, we have - "  
  
"Mr Vaughn." Sark cut her off.  
  
Sydney smiled at him, noticing the faint jealousy in his eyes. "Yes, Michael," she emphasized the word, "He came up with something that has my mom smiling quite broadly.  
  
"Ah, as he would."  
  
Sydney rolled her eyes and crawled over the bed to stand beside him. She pulled him into a hug, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. "I love Michael. I know that makes you unhappy, but I'm sure that you'd rather be friends with me than nothing."  
  
He smiled at her, "I suppose," he pouted. "I must say, you two do make a very lovely looking couple." Sydney grinned with triumph. Sark had been staying at her place for three days now and every morning she had to remind him that they were just friends. She never would have pinned him for someone who would accept not being able to have everything he wanted but she was now confident that, with her mother on her side, there was very little chance he would make a pass at her.  
  
"There, that's settled then."  
  
Sark looked up, the usual playful look in his eyes, "You never were my type anyway." She glared at him and half-heartedly threw a pillow. Catching it he laughed, "Now, you really should be getting to work. This is one day you cannot miss." 


	26. A meeting with the seductress

Chapter 26  
  
Sydney strolled into the CIA, heels clicking on the hard, shinny floor, her arms swaying at her sides as half the room looked up as the government's greatest agent walked through the door. Her face split into a dimple- enhanced grin and she waved shyly at Marshall who was across the room, smiling at her. An agent she was not familiar with walked up to her and handed her a folder of loose sheets. Sydney smiled at the short chubby man and thanked him politely.  
  
She wasn't interested in the folder though, she could hardly stop herself from scanning the area for her father and Michael. She sat down at her desk, leaving her shoulder bag beside her and did her best to look like she was just going through the motions.  
  
Sure enough, however, fifteen minutes into writing up an over-due report, she sensed someone headed towards her and looked up to see both men coming directly at her.  
  
On Vaughn's face, a well-assembled façade of anger and frustration was present while her father sported a more deadened look of shock and bemusement. They stopped beside her desk and Jack spoke, "Kendall wants a meeting in his office, now."  
  
"What about?" Sydney played her part perfectly and the look of confusion on her face was convincing enough that Vaughn couldn't help the flicker of admiration and a smile.  
  
"That doesn't matter," Jack snapped at her and stormed off not waiting for them to follow him.  
  
Sydney stood up, locking down her computer as was the current policy and moving after her father with Vaughn by her side. They all entered Kendall's office together and it was into an air filled with tension that could have been cut with a knife.  
  
Kendall motioned for them all to have a seat, which they did, begrudgingly. Then he spoke, "Agent Bristow, this morning, before you arrived, we were contacted by Mr Sark. He had a proposition for us."  
  
Sydney's brow creased on cue.  
  
Kendall sighed, as though surprised at himself for even bringing this to a discussion, perhaps he was being stupid, but he felt this wasn't an offer which should just be swept under the rug and classed completely ridiculous. If this was pulled off, he'd be able to retire with a generous pension.  
  
The brief pause allowed Sydney to push for more information, "What was his proposal?"  
  
Kendall looked up and eyed her, he wasn't too surprised that neither Jack or Michael had bothered to tell her, their stern eyes and pursed lips made it plainly obvious that they were deeply disturbed by the fact he'd even dreamt of pursuing this.  
  
"Mr Sark has offered to turn himself in." Sydney's eyes widened and she opened her mouth, her expression openly gleeful. Kendall quickly went on, "In exchange for Derevko."  
  
The joy fell away from her face in pieces as she watched the two men beside her watch her. "Oh," she stated simply.  
  
Kendall stared her down and she felt herself forced to say something else, she took the view they'd agreed on. "Well, can't we just make sure we release her in a way in which we can recapture her?"  
  
Jack answered her, the familiar curt tone in his voice, "Sark has made it perfectly clear that he swaps with her only if she agrees on the terms of her release. So tracking her, releasing her in a position where she can be captured or anything else we can come up with is completely out of the question. She'll see right through anything we throw at her."  
  
He turned from glaring at his daughter to glare at Kendall, "This cannot be pulled off successfully. If it could, Sark would not have offered himself up in the first place."  
  
Kendall pursed his lips and looked from Jack to Vaughn to see if he had any support there. The look on the young agent's face told him to keep looking. If Sydney didn't give him something, he wasn't going to stand a chance. He moved his eyes to the brunette in front of him and raised an eyebrow at the thoughtful look that he found on her face.  
  
"What?" he asked her.  
  
He saw her look to her father before she answered, voice strong but slow, "I can't really see the problem with asking her what terms she'd agree with. I mean, if we offer her something hard and then see where we can negotiate her to. There's no real harm in that."  
  
Kendall agreed and would have brought it up himself except Jack hearing it from Sydney was more likely to agree than Jack hearing it from him. "We offer her full house arrest with absolutely no way of escape, see what happens."  
  
Jack pursed his lips but nodded while Vaughn, seeing he was on his own could only continue to glare at the wall behind Kendall's head.  
  
He only needed two votes out of three to have enough confidence to try this. And he had them. Quickly, he dismissed the threesome from his office and watched as they walked to the door where they each went their own separate way. The fantasy of having Irina under house arrest and Sark behind bars, not to mention the resulting recognition for him, playing out in front of his eyes.  
  
Irina sat, cross-legged on the floor of her cell. They should have been there by now, but they weren't. She wondered if something had gone wrong, if they'd somehow worked out that her and Jack had rigged the tapes to loop themselves while they talked about things they shouldn't have.  
  
She told herself to calm down, told herself that it wasn't that bad, they might have been delayed be any number of harmless things. Maybe Sydney woke up late and everything was running late because of that. She wanted to roll her eyes at the thought, she doubted her daughter had to ability to run late.  
  
At that very thought, she felt the ground vibrate as the metal bar gate rose and Kendall walked through. She'd planned on having a little more help in the form of Jack or one of the other present, but this proved he really was that interested in being in the higher powers' good books.  
  
"Good morning, Mr Kendall." She said, getting up and moving to stand at the glass. "What can I do for you?"  
  
She watched him survey her for any sign she wasn't what she was supposed to be. When he was satisfied that she had no idea what was going on, not that she could have, he told her, "Mr Sark has offered to hand himself over to us in return for your release."  
  
"Ah," Irina paused and then grinned, "You don't think he's just going to play you? Get you to let me out and then decide not to turn up?"  
  
Kendall glared at her. "I'm here to negotiate the terms of that release..."  
  
"Terms?" she sounded incredulous. "Mr Sark should have specified those to you."  
  
"No, he said that if we came to an agreement, he'd know." Kendall watched her like a mouse eyeing a piece of cheese. He just wasn't sure where the household cat was at that time.  
  
"So, what are you offering?" she asked him complacently.  
  
"We take you out of this cage and put you under full house arrest."  
  
An eyebrow perked up and she smiled at him, "You, Mr Kendall, have a very skewed version of 'released'."  
  
He frowned at her through the glass. "Yes, and you Ms Derevko, really don't have much to bargain for." She let her face fall despite knowing she had everything to bargain with. "What would you agree to?" he asked.  
  
She took her time, she had to make it look like he thought of it, she couldn't let him suspect her, "I understand your need to keep me in a position where you can keep an eye on me, I know your government does not trust me and I know that you want to be in a position of control over both me and Sark. I want a contract, signed by the head of the CIA, giving me a guarantee that, unless I break the law, I may not be pulled back into CIA custody."  
  
"Fine," Kendall agreed, "But you're not just going to be allowed to walk out the front door."  
  
"I realize that, she told him, but I am not going to be thrown into a little house somewhere where every morning I can see four armed guards outside my window. And if your definition of house arrest involves cameras, you can leave now." His definition did involve cameras, lots of them, and bugging devices and traces on her phone and computer, but he wasn't about to leave, she wanted out, to him that was plainly clear, but what could he offer her?  
  
"Look, I'm sorry, but I can't just cut you loose. The best I can offer you is house arrest."  
  
She glared at him and replied with a flat, "No."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
God the man was dumb, "I can deal with being watched but at least give me the façade of privacy. I don't mind house arrest, as long as it looks like, at least to me, that I'm actually living by myself."  
  
Kendall looked at her, "And how the hell do you propose I do that?"  
  
She shrugged and returned to sitting on the floor, her eyes slowly sliding shut, apparently she was bored with the conversation.  
  
"Ms Derevko..." she made no answer. He stood there for a while longer, analyzing the situation he found himself stuck in bit by bit. If she had a weakness, he knew it. "What about Jack?"  
  
Her eyes shot open and he was thrilled with the small victory, she quickly hid it though, "What about him?"  
  
"What if I let him organize the circumstances-"  
  
"No," she cut him off.  
  
"Well what then? You want it to appear not to be under house arrest while still unable to leave. How do I achieve that?"  
  
"A big house with big grounds, perhaps a high fence, I don't care, just organise it." He glared again and she wondered if she'd pushed too far.  
  
"No," it was his turn to reject the offer, "You could do anything in there. You'd have to have an agent live in with you."  
  
"There is no way," she said, again getting to her feet, "That I am going to live with a complete stranger."  
  
Kendall threw his hands up in the air in frustration, "Well I'm not going to put your daughter in the position, I hardly think it wise to throw Agent Vaughn in a house with you, one of you would end up dead. And Jack, well, again, one of you would kill the other and I hardly think any one of them would agree to all this anyway."  
  
"Well then," Irina said, "We don't have a deal." She promptly moved to the back wall and sat down facing it, signaling the conversation well and truly over. For a few minutes, she sensed Kendall behind her, staring the back of her head down through the glass but eventually he left and she turned around, letting a small smile of anticipation escape her lips. Now it was up to Jack. If he played this right, they were home free.  
  
A long chapter, I'm so proud, for a girl with a concentration span shorter than her little finger nail, this was pretty good.  
  
Reviews please 


	27. Intricate Details

Chapter 27  
  
Kendall stalked out of his office where he'd been keeping himself busy for the last two hours. He pretended to look over the file in his hands while he scanned the room for Jack. He wasn't there, only a few agents were. He clicked his tongue and remained where he was. If he could offload both an international threat and his own greatest risk to moving up the corporate ladder, there was little which would remaining his way?  
  
All he had to do was formulate a plan to convince Jack it was in his best interests. How the hell he was going to do that was beyond him. In the week since Jack had returned from their misadventure in Thailand, he'd made it perfectly clear that his disdain for the woman still ran pure. He'd been to see her a couple of times a day, appearing obsessed just with watching her, but the cameras had provided only pictures of few words and dark glares from both.  
  
Whatever had happened while they were away, neither was prepared to talk about it, still, it was perfectly clear that their relationship had not improved.  
  
So how was he going to convince Jack to live with the woman he hated? There had to, in his opinion, be a solution, and when he found it, he was going to be promoted and the famous Agent Bristow would be nothing more than a housewife.  
  
Biting his lip, he flipped the folder shut and scanned the room again, with narrowed eyes. Jack had just entered, smug look on his face as usual, lips pursed as he was immediately confronted by a harried agent who spoke for a few seconds and shoved a pile of paper towards him.  
  
Jack nodded curtly and turned to walk in the direction of his desk. Kendall, taking a deep breath, moved in to corner him. He was in his own little world as he stalked towards his prey. Jack looked up and nodded in his direction before turning to his computer where he had obviously just started typing something up. Kendall came to a stop in front of him, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.  
  
Looking up expectantly, this time, Jack swivelled around in the chair and waited, with arms crossed. It was all he could so to stop himself from laughing at the sheer lack of comfort on his boss's face. After the awkward silence had stretched on for several minutes, Jack's brow creased and he turned back to his computer, shaking his head and looking slightly bemused.  
  
The moment his fingers went to move over the keyboard, a hand was placed on his shoulder. Jack turned back, "What?" he sounded exasperated and confused, not the way Kendall had wanted the conversation to start.  
  
"I spoke to Derevko..." Kendall let his words hang in the air as he watched as the expected dislike flickered over Jack's face.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And...we came up with a realistic compromise." Kendall felt like a little kid asking his parents for an expensive toy, already knowing the answer, but determined to try anyway. He felt stupid. Jack's expectant look signalled he wasn't about to start talking, he was playing this smart, keeping his mouth tightly shut. "She's agreed to house arrest at a big property with no guards in sight of the house, no cameras but I think she'll surrender phone and internet records, no wire taps though."  
  
Kendall waited; Jack was not looking convinced, "She's playing you," his words backed up his facial expression.  
  
"She's not," Kendall insisted, "She'd agreed to have an agent live in with her."  
  
Jack stared at him, an eyebrow raised. "She's agreed to live with someone who's fully trained?" Kendall nodded. "What about a tracking device?"  
  
He shrugged, "I can't see her being in a position to complain about it." Jack nodded, as though finally thinking about it.  
  
Eventually, he shrugged, "It sounds failsafe, it probably isn't but we've got the house out east, enough paddocks and trees to keep her happy. Put as many men on the perimeter as you can manage and send an armed, fully- trained agent out to live with her."  
  
Kendall hadn't thought of that, it was a huge farm but no one ever used it as a safe-house any more. Too much open space around the actual house and no real escape routes. But it suited this perfectly. He looked back to Jack who, thinking they were done, had gone back to typing. He didn't wonder for a second how Jack had known about the neglected house.  
  
"There is one other, small matter." Jack turned back, "She will only live with an agent she is familiar with, otherwise she won't agree to the deal." Jack's eyes narrowed and the look was good enough to make Kendall cringe and draw the attention of the two people who'd been loitering by the main entrance for the last ten minutes. Jack threw a quick glance at them and watched Sydney pull out her mobile and dial a number.  
  
That dealt with, he looked at the man in front of him who'd stepped back and now looked as though he was preparing to have a piano dropped on him. "Who, exactly, did she have in mind?" Jack emphasised each word and watched his adversary recoil further.  
  
"Well," Kendall stalled, "She really didn't have a preference," he lied.  
  
"I am not letting you take he near my daughter." Jack dangled the bait in front of him.  
  
Kendall grabbed it whole-heartedly, "Well, if you reject this, I'm really not going to have much of a choice other than to move on to her, see if she's interested in getting to know her mother a little better. It is a matter of international security that we bring in Sark."  
  
Jack clenched his teeth, letting out a slow breath and, in a low dangerous voice, asked, "Are you telling me that if I don't live with Irina Derevko, you will allow my daughter to take on the job."  
  
Kendall smiled, puffing up his chest, "Yes."  
  
Jack stood up, glaring at him, "Are you trying to blackmail me?"  
  
Kendall smiled again, this time, knowing he'd won, the Cheshire cat grin only winning him a powerful punch to the jaw and the coppery taste of blood in his mouth.  
  
When he'd recovered, he could only watch Jack's retreating form as Sydney and Vaughn, who had apparently just walked into the office, moved over to question him. "What was that?" she asked worried, the blood showing as Kendall rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth.  
  
He glared at the young woman and said, "My office. Now."  
  
Sydney and Vaughn sauntered in after him and took their seats. What they needed now was for Sark to call. It had easily been five minutes since Sydney had called her home phone. Sark hadn't picked up, but that had been the plan. So what hadn't he called the CIA?  
  
Kendall took his hand away again and spat blood into the waste paper bin to his left. He turned back to Sydney, glowering at her as though her father's rash actions were somehow her fault. Fighting back the urge to yell, he quickly began to outline to the two of them the proposal Irina had put to him and was just explaining to them Jack's decision to hit him when his phone rang. Opting to ignore it, Kendall continued talking. However when it hadn't stopped ringing a minute later, he snatched it up and forcefully asked, "What is it?"  
  
"Mr Sark is on the line. He says it's important."  
  
Kendall's face fell and he asked to be patched through.  
  
To be continued, in the near future, I hope, no major school work due for two weeks, so I should be able to update a little more often. 


End file.
